


There Are No Happy Endings

by cleo4u2



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aliens, Anal Fingering, Bucky never really remembered steve, Dirty Talk, Final chapter smut, Humor, M/M, Non-binary character, Post CA:CW, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Promise, There is no Stony, Waking up is never like you expect, bucky wakes up, everyone needs steve, frozen bucky, fuck time passes fast when you're asleep, just keep reading, wade knows everything, wanda is a boss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-13 11:51:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7975825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleo4u2/pseuds/cleo4u2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes is put into cryo until T’challa’s scientists find a cure. There is a cure, but it’s deemed too dangerous to Bucky’s health. When they finally do wake him, the world is at war with shapeshifting aliens, because Bucky just can’t have a happy ending.</p><p>(The title is so a lie)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No One Knows Steve Like Bucky

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the Mini Glow Cloud[NurseDarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/profile). ALL HAIL. Thanks to [Xantissa](http://archiveofourown.org/users/xantissa/pseuds/xantissa) for reading and telling me, gently but firmly, to write better.
> 
>  **Note** : My Skrull are not canon compliant. Yes, I'm aware Anelle is the name if a real Skrull in the comics. That's why I picked it - this is not THAT Anelle.

If Bucky has learned anything in his ninety-seven years, it’s that there are no happy endings. Not for him, not for anyone else. He tried, honestly he did. Found himself a nice apartment in Bucharest, a job, no friends, but people who expected to see him about; the old lady in the apartment next door who he took out the trash for, the farmers at the farmer's market, his boss at the mechanics shop, and the other employees. It wasn’t perfect, it was nothing like Brooklyn, but he wasn’t sure he even remembered ‘back then’ right. This - Bucharest - he knew. He wasn’t _happy_ , but it was the closest he’d been to happy since falling off a train in the Alps seventy years ago.

Then Zemo had framed him and everything had gone to hell. Steve was chasing him, after two whole years of understanding Bucky needed space. No one else cared what he needed, but every day Steve had stayed away Bucky had been grateful, even if it hurt. 

It did hurt, especially as the memories of ‘back then’ grew stronger. Steve was his best friend, his best pal. They were Steve and Bucky; never one without the other, until they weren’t any more. Bucky wasn’t sure they’d ever be again, even after Steve fought his friends for him, lost his friends for him, dropped the _shield_. That simple fact made him feel like the most ungrateful bastard in the world, but he wasn’t worth all this. He just wasn’t. Not with all the blood on his hands and the years and nearly killing Steve not once, but three times. 

Three times, _Christ_.

When they arrived in Wakanda, Bucky hadn’t hesitated to ask when he found out they had cryo technology. It was safer for everyone if he went under again. He knew it was, even if Steve’s expression said otherwise. Besides, it would only be for a few years. A few years and they’d find a way to make sure no one could make him hurt Steve, or anyone else again.

As he’s closing his eyes in the cryo tank, Bucky even manages to smile. 

There are no dreams in cryo, just black, peaceful sleep. When he wakes, he’ll still in that peaceful state, pleased because there’s only one reason they’ll wake him again. To make him free. It’s his happy thought that allows him to fly to Neverland.

If Bucky’s being honest, he expects to see Steve. Expects him to be smiling, or at least looking hopeful. He doesn’t expect the girl – Wanda, he remembers – to be standing there without a technician in sight. She looks older than he remembers, lines at her eyes and at the corners of her mouth. Laugh lines. There’s no happiness in her eyes, however. They’re dark, deep brown, wise and older, none of the fear he remembered clinging to her. 

Glancing around, he sees he’s in the same lab he went to sleep in and Wanda isn’t alone. There’s a man wearing red and black leather? Spandex? standing near the door. He’s masked, whoever he is, carrying a larger arsenal than Bucky usually did as the Winter Soldier. A glance shows him the obvious two katanas, but several smaller knives and guns tucked away in various places on the man’s body, and that’s not counting the butterfly knife he’s absently spinning about his fingers, making it dance through the air effortlessly.

At the knife-guy’s side is a man who looks to be in his forties, greying hair and sideburns, shorter than even Steve’s used to be, and puffing on a huge cigar, powerful arms crossed over and equally powerful chest. He’s more than a little intimidating, and Bucky doesn’t intimidate easy any more. Something about him just _screams_ danger, masculinity, and that he thinks he’s the strongest guy in the room.

“Welcome back, Sergeant Barnes,” Wanda says coolly, her accent as lilting and pleasant on the ears as he remembers. 

“Hiya!” the man in black and red chirps.

“I’m afraid,” Wanda goes on, “it’s time you stopped sleeping.”

“You’re afraid?” Bucky repeats, not understanding the phrasing. “Where’s Steve?”

“You don’t get to ask about Steve, bub,” the older man says, his voice a low growl. “Not after leavin’ him high and dry like that.”

Wanda is unstrapping his restraints, so he doesn’t get a chance to get in this guy’s face. More than anything, he wants to. No one gets to tell him how best to handle all the bullshit Bucky’s encountered in the last three years.

Glaring, he opens his mouth to retort when the masked man throws in his two cents while the knife continues to flash through the air.

“Eh, we’ve all slept away a decade or two.”

“What?” Bucky steps unsteadily from the tube now that he can, looking first to Wanda. “How long has it been? What’s the year?”

Wanda doesn’t answer, just looks at him with those steady, unflinching eyes.

Pulling his cigar from between his lips, the older man puffs out a breath of smoke and says evenly, “2031.”

“Twenty…” Bucky looks from him, to the masked man, then back to Wanda. Fifteen years? Why did they leave him asleep for so long?

“This is Logan,” Wanda motions to the older man, “and Wade –“

“Deadpool,” Wade corrects.

“- they’re friends of Steve’s.”

Bucky isn’t sure what to say about that. There’s too many questions bouncing around in his skull.

“They’ve found a way to get the codes out of my head, right?” he says instead.

“We had a way,” Wanda says, “but Steve decided it was too risky.”

“So…they were just going to let me sleep? Forever?”

“The Wakandan scientists have been working tirelessly for fifteen years to fix you, bub,” Logan growls, “It ain’t easy, pulling pieces out of a guy's brain while leaving the rest intact, and since the war, they’ve been needed to work on more pressing matters. Life saving ones.”

That’s a genuinely terrifying thought, to be _more_ broken than he already is. Swallowing, Bucky looks back to Wanda. They haven’t tried to use the codes on him, and he remembers she was a friend, so he’s not afraid, exactly. It still doesn’t answer most of his questions though, and now he can’t figure out why he’s awake at all if they thought he was better off frozen for so long.

“So why did you wake me, then?”

“Time to man up,” Logan declares with another puff of smoke.

“We all know you’re a delicate princess, Barnes,” Wade says, the knife flying so fast Bucky’s sure he’s going to lose a finger, “but your nap time is over.”

“We need you,” Wanda says frankly.

“Steve doesn’t know you’re here, does he?” Bucky realizes with a jolt.

“Of course not,” Wanda says flatly, lifting a hand glowing with red power, “but Steve needs you, too.”

“So,” Wade sing-songs, the quiet click-clack of the knife punctuating his words, “we don’t care if we might fry your brain. Hold on to your seat, buttercup.” Wincing, he mutters, “Jesus, this dialogue is terrible.”

“Now, wait a minute,” Bucky starts, backing up, but there’s only the cryo tube behind him.

“Eh, don’t worry,” Wade says, the knife stilling for the first time, “You have plot-protection; you’ll be fine.”

“I have what?” Bucky asks, but the light is flaring out of Wanda’s hand and no one answers. There’s just red and more red, and Bucky is falling, falling, falling into a shitty little apartment in the middle of winter. He’s shutting the door and Steve is there on the battered old couch they’d found abandoned in an alley, wrapped in a blanket with his sketchbook in his lap. He’s skinny and small and looks like a good wind would blow him right over.

“Bucky!” Steve says excitedly, making room on the couch, “You’re home early. Come sit; put your feet up.”

Bucky’s feet take him to the couch and he sits, slinging his feet onto the battered coffee table, but Steve doesn’t go back to writing. He scoots under Bucky’s arm and presses a kiss to his lips. It’s slow and sure and Bucky kisses back like it’s the most natural thing in the whole world. And was it? Is it? He doesn’t remember this, doesn’t remember being this way with Steve.

“Welcome home,” Steve murmurs against his lips.

“This isn’t real,” Bucky whispers.

Steve chuckles, nipping at his lower lip.

“No, it isn’t, but does it matter? It happened. Every day you came home, I had dinner and a kiss waiting. You remember, Buck? You remember me? Remember us?”

And like that, he does. Cold nights spent curled up on their couch, keeping Steve warm. Long days at the docks, but he gets to come home to Steve and a hot meal and warm lips, so it’s worth every sore muscle. 

Their first kiss under the pier at midnight on New Years 1934, when Steve was sixteen and he was seventeen. Making love for the first time in Steve’s bedroom when his mom was working late on a nightshift, terrified and thrilled and happier than he’d ever been before. Pulling Steve out of bars and alleys, taking girls out on double dates so no one ever discovered they were queer. Holding hands, kisses to noses and temples, Stevie was “sweetheart” and “sugar”. Never “doll”, or “baby”; Steve hated those. Hated that he couldn’t tell everyone Bucky was his and he was Bucky’s. Loved morning kisses and evening kisses and blow jobs after dinner and the sound of the rain on the roof.

Bucky _remembers,_ and he can’t believe he’d ever thought to leave Steve behind. It’s been nineteen years since the train and the Alps. Will Steve even still want him? Will he have moved on? After so much time and Bucky leaving him _twice_ , Bucky can’t imagine he will.

“I love you,” Bucky feels tears leaking down his face. “I love you and I…”

“Shh, I’m here,” Steve whispers against his lips, “I’m waiting.”

Bucky shakes his head because no, he won’t be waiting. No one would wait so long. And then the world is spinning, spinning, spinning with the motion and it won’t stop, doesn’t stop, and then it does. Snow continues falling, soft and silent, but he’s outside in it. Outside in a forest and his arm is around Steve’s waist, the other holding his wrist, and Steve is big and Bucky’s in navy.

“No, Stevie, like this,” he’s saying, pulling Steve’s arm back. Slowly he moves it forward, adjusting Steve’s wrist and his grip on the knife in his hand, “See?”

Steve laughs as Bucky shows him the right technique again.

“Probably not, but I’ll give it a shot.”

Buck keeps his arm around Steve’s waist, but releases his wrist. Winding up, Steve lets the knife fly and it strikes the target dead between the eyes.

“Ha!” Steve crows with triumph, turning around and kissing Bucky square on the mouth. It’s chaste, a press of lips to lips, but they aren’t alone. Wolf whistles from behind Bucky make him blush, but Steve doesn’t stop kissing Bucky until he’s good and ready. Bucky can’t believe it. The Commandos knew about them? Did Peggy?

“Did this happen, too?” he asks Steve.

The memory, or image, or whatever it is of Steve smiles and cups his cheek.

“Yeah, Buck, this happened, too.”

“I taught you to throw a knife?” Bucky asks with no little surprise.

“And shoot a rifle,” Steve confirms. “You’ve always been my ace in the hole, Buck. My fallback plan and right hand man. A weapon and my best guy. Don’t you remember? Don’t you remember how I always needed you?”

No, he didn’t remember, but now he does. Watching Steve’s back, watching out for the other Commandos as they clear towns and farms and old buildings. Making sure the escape route is clear, making sure Steve’s plans can’t be foiled by a wandering Nazi patrol. Keeping Steve sharp, keeping his issues to himself, keeping the guys on the right track, and not wondering if Steve and Peggy are like Steve and Bucky until he realizes that, somehow, they all know and no one cares. Maybe Steve and Peggy stare at each other too long and maybe they flirt, but it’s Bucky who has Steve’s heart. Bucky who watches his back.

“I always got your back,” Bucky says thickly, “I was _supposed_ to always have your back. Stevie…”

“Shh, Buck,” Steve presses another kiss to his lips, slow and sweet and perfect. “I understand and I’m waiting.”

“Why?” Bucky practically sobs. “Why would you wait for me?”

Steve laughs at him.

“Because I love you, jerk.”

“Steve…”

Bucky wants nothing more than to kiss him again, hold him and promise he’ll never leave. Instead the world turns black, damp, and dark and Steve is just gone. It’s not as cold anymore, but chill seeps up Bucky’s feet from a stone floor and he realizes he’s barefoot. There’s no light. No sound but a dripping in the distance, low and far away.

“Hello?” Bucky calls, suddenly nervous. “Steve?”

“Steve can’t find us here,” a voice, his voice, calls from the darkness. “He’s dead. Saved the world and died for his trouble. No one’s coming.”

“No, he’s not dead,” Bucky protests, “He’s just frozen in the ice.”

Rough hands, nails long and ragged, grab his arms, force him to the ground, press his face against the unyielding stone. The body pressed against his back is thin but strong; so much stronger than Bucky. One hand is hot, fevered where it holds Bucky’s neck. The other is cold, chilled metal yanking at Bucky’s hair painfully, baring his throat.

“He’s dead, we knew he was dead,” the stranger – it’s not him, it’s _not_ – rasps, breath foul against his cheek, “They told us and we broke. Broke and cried and sobbed and then vowed never to break again. Because he wouldn’t break. He wouldn’t let them make him a monster, their _pet_ , their weapon, but we failed. Didn’t we?” 

Not-him slams Bucky’s face into the stone floor.

“We broke and shattered into a million pieces!” he shouts. “Don’t you remember!? Don’t you remember what we _did_?!”

Letting out a scream, Bucky struggles as the memories return. He already remembers being the Fist, remembers every life he took, every assassination for Hydra. What he didn’t remember was _before_ , when he was still Bucky, when they were breaking him, shaping him, making him a weapon. A thing. Nothing at all. All the times when they were taking him apart, scraping and tearing until he wasn’t. He remembers now, and he screams and screams and screams.

Then he’s waking, sitting up with a start. The screaming, his screaming as they tortured him, is gone, and now someone is shouting. A Steve-shaped someone in a suit, that’s who, but it’s not _the_ suit. It’s black and gold and purple, but Bucky has never cared about the suit. It’s the man inside it that matters to him.

The question is, does he still matter to Steve?

“- the right to make decisions like this!” Steve shouts.

Wanda, Wade, and Logan do not look properly chastened, Bucky is happy to see. With her arms crossed over her chest, Wanda looks like she’s just waiting for Steve to lose some steam before shouting back. Logan looks bored, and Wade doesn’t seem to be paying any attention at all. Friends of Steve, Wanda had said, and Bucky thinks they might be better than that Sam guy Steve was relying on before. He let Steve get away with way too much shit.

“Steve,” Bucky rasps, his throat rough like maybe he wasn’t just screaming in his head. That would explain how pissed off Steve is, anyways. To Bucky’s surprise, when he turns, Steve looks _exactly_ the same as he last saw him. Not a new wrinkle, or line, or shadow. Well, that’s not quite right. There are new shadows in his eyes. Bucky has spent twenty-one years avoiding helping Steve fight his demons, but he always saw them. There were just too many of his own he had to battle first.

Yet Steve’s at his side in a heartbeat, not touching him, but he wouldn’t. Bucky had made it very obvious he wanted Steve to stay away before he went into cryo. Running after D.C., then keeping his distance at every opportunity when they were near and running from the government. Steve had respected that, had respected _Bucky,_ and he’d needed it at the time.

Now Bucky needs something else. He needs to know he has a chance.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve says, voice soft and low, “You all right? Wanda said you might have a bad headache.”

“’M fine,” Bucky answers, reaching out and taking Steve’s hand, hearing his own breathing hitch as he laces their fingers together, “Better ‘n fine. I knew… I knew there was somethin’ missing, you know? Now I remember… Now I know… And the fuck were you talking about some girl named Dot for? Never gave a shit about Dot and you know it.”

“You…” Steve is swallowing and Wade is making kissy noises they both ignore. “You remember?” 

Carefully, Bucky sits up and nods, glancing at Wanda. The powerful woman is just watching him, her too-wise eyes inscrutable. He has to wonder if she saw what he saw, if she remembers like he does, or if he was alone to remember. What he knows for sure is he owes her a debt he can’t ever repay.

“I didn’t before,” Bucky explains, looking back to Steve, “About us. Maybe they scrubbed it out first, or maybe they had to wipe it out the most, but Steve…I didn’t remember. I never…I never would have gone under if I’d remembered. Now I remember everything...” He looks down at their hands and smiles bitterly at the gold that flashes at him. “But you’re married now, huh?”

“What?” Steve blinks, following Bucky’s gaze. “Um, I married Tony about two years ago.”

Yet Steve is still holding his hand.

“Stark? The same Tony Stark that tried to kill me?”

Steve frowns.

“You did murder his parents.”

Bucky flinches, pulling his hand free from Steve’s. It’s not at all what he expected to hear, to be told. It felt like only days ago that Steve had said he wasn’t the one who killed all those people. Now… Now he’s married to Stark and calling Bucky a murderer.

“Steve!” Wanda scolds, arms crossing.

Wade lets out a low whistle, leaning back and lacing his fingers behind his head.

“Damn, that was cold, Cap.”

Though Steve looks up, he doesn’t seem to think he’s said anything wrong. It’s very...not like the Steve Rogers Bucky knows. The whole situation, compared to his memory dream, is surreal. 

“What?” Steve stares at them. 

Wanda glares, coming around Bucky and putting an arm around his shoulders. She leads him to an exam bed and makes him sit. It’s surprisingly nice to be mothered again, even by a super powerful woman who could crush his brain with a thought.

“I, um,” Steve stammers a little, focuses back on Bucky, “Are you okay?”

“Fine, Stevie. Aces,” Bucky lies. “You remember when Debbie ditched me? It’ll just be like that. Don’t worry.”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Steve says.

Something in his tone makes Bucky look up and it’s a jolt to realize Steve doesn’t remember at all. How can he not remember? Bucky had been miserable for weeks, hardly speaking, until Steve had finally forced him out of his funk. It was the only time Bucky had ever been down about a girl and Steve had, later, teased him mercilessly about it.

“I thought you said it was only fifteen years,” Bucky looks to Wanda. 

“It was,” she says, glancing at Wade and Logan from beneath her lashes, “Why?”

“I…” Bucky shakes his head. Maybe it just wasn’t as important as Bucky remembers. “Nevermind. Why did you need me awake?”

Hopefully it’s a good reason because Bucky wants nothing more than to go back to sleep.

“Told you, there’s a war,” Logan says, stepping forward, with what has to be a new cigar dangling from his lips, “and we need soldiers we can trust.”

Looking irritated, Steve crosses his arms over his chest. It’s clear he doesn’t want Bucky involved in this war. Is that why he let Bucky sleep for so long? Or was it just that Steve didn’t want to have Bucky remember what they were, then explain he had moved on?

“‘M fine, Steve,” Bucky says again, though his hunched shoulders probably say otherwise. “Wanda gave me all my memories back. You don’t have to worry about me.”

The irritation doesn’t quite leave his eyes, but Steve nods and launches into an explanation nonetheless.

“An alien race known as the Skrull have invaded Earth. They’ve been secretly taking over major governments around the world by kidnapping the world leaders and replacing them with their own people. Since they’re shape-changers, no one noticed until about five years ago.”

“Something out of a cheesey radio drama, you say?” Wade asks, the butterfly knife appearing in his hand and dancing through the air again, “Shape-changing aliens, good one! That’s what everyone said when I tried to tell them the truth.”

“Sorry, Wade,” Steve says, but he doesn’t sound sorry. “Like he said, we didn’t take the threat very seriously until about three years ago when when of the Skrulls came for Tony. They can’t copy enhanced humans, inhumans, or mutants -”

“What?” Bucky blinks.

“Mutants,” Logan growls, pulling the cigar from his mouth and tapping his chest, “We’re born with a genetic mutation that gives us abilities. Enhanced are you four; humans given abilities, but not born with them.”

“Inhumans,” Wanda supplies, “are humans with alien ancestors whose powers are unlocked through...various methods. Similar to mutants, but -”

“Not copyrighted by Sony,” Wade interrupts.

“What?” Bucky asks, but everyone else ignores him so he decides to follow suit. 

“- genetically a different species,” Wanda finishes.

“Uh, sure,” Bucky says. It seems straightforward so he knows it can’t be, but now’s not the time to get the nitty-gritty details. “So the Skrulls can’t copy us.”

“Right,” Steve says, “but Tony is just human, so they targeted him. When we realized the truth -”

“They all came crawling to me,” Wade interjects, how spinning two knives, one in each hand, “demanding answers and not even offering an apology. But I’m a good guy, I took the high road. I’m not bitter at all.”

“The point is,” Steve says loudly, “that we were soon victims of a witch hunt. The Skrulls in power knew they’d failed to replace Tony, so they tried to have us arrested. We weren’t the only ones,” Wade waves, “and we came here, going into hiding and trying to bring down the Skrulls, or at least expose them without being dismissed as crazy conspiracy nuts.”

“And you haven’t been able to do that in three years?” Bucky asks, more than a little surprised. 

Steve glares.

“It’s not for a lack of trying. They have all the power and we…”

“We have a mole,” Logan puffs darkly.

“If they’re aliens,” Bucky says slowly, “surely there’s some kind of test to check?”

“No,” Wanda answers, her hand still heavy on his shoulder, “They take the DNA of those they are replacing and become exact copies of them. Unless they shift to their true forms, we have no way to know.”

“However,” Steve said gamely, “T’challa’s people are working on a method.”

“It’s a bit hard when someone keeps corrupting their drives,” Wade says. “I dunno, you’d think they’d just learn to work on paper or something.”

Bucky blinks slowly.

“You’re telling me you’ve had a mole _and_ a saboteur, for _three_ years and you can’t find them?”

Steve looks down at his feet. The other three exchange significant glances. This, Bucky thinks, is why they woke him, but that doesn’t make sense. He’s not going to be able to sniff out a mole. That’s not even in the Winter Soldier’s skill-set. So why could they possibly think he can do this? And why did they wake him up behind Steve’s back?

“So how do I play into this?” Bucky asks with a sigh.

“Well,” Wanda starts, her hand squeezing Bucky’s shoulder.

“You’re not supposed to,” Steve snaps, suddenly angry again, “Your wishes were supposed to be respected. You were _supposed_ to sleep.”

Bucky stares; so does everyone else. That Steve is pissed off they put Bucky’s brain in danger is one thing, but being pissed off they woke him at all? What the hell is that about?

“Stevie,” Bucky says carefully, “It’s not a big deal. If I wanted, I’m sure T’challa would let me go back to sleep.”

“That’s not the point,” Steve snaps.

“What’s the point, Stevie?” Bucky continues in the same, calming tone.

“The point is,” Steve whirls on Logan and Wade, jabbing a finger in their direction, “you all disobeyed a direct order.” The pointing finger stabs Wanda’s way. “Insubordination. There _will_ be consequences.”

Bucky can’t believe his ears. Disobeying orders was never a problem for Steve during the war. So long as he trusted his men and his men trusted him, he he let them get the job done how they saw fit. More than that, he always _listened_ to them. If they thought something was a good course of action, he didn’t just override them. This Steve, though, reminds him of his first commanding officer, and that prick had nearly gotten them all killed.

“You feeling okay, Stevie?” Bucky asks. “When’s the last time you had a break, huh?”

Blue eyes swivel to him and Steve glares, but no finger points his way. 

“I don’t need a break, I need my people to respect me.”

“Oh, sorry! I missed my cue!” Wade shouts out of the blue. 

It’s sufficiently distracting, Bucky breaks from staring at Steve, who _knows_ that respect doesn’t come in the form of perfectly obeyed orders. _Steve_ , the best CO Bucky ever knew. Steve, who’s acting like a junior officer fresh out of the academy.

Bouncing forward, Wade throws his arms around Bucky, crying, “Don’t let the mean captain hurt me!”

“Wade,” Logan snaps, but Bucky is grateful. It gives him the opportunity to lift a knife from Wade’s belt. He’s not armed, thanks to his recent cryo sleep, but he thinks he needs to be. The show Wade is putting on is for this reason. That’s why it’s not surprising when Wade moves with him, doesn’t give away what he’s done. Going even further, Wade steps back so his body blocks Steve’s view of his hand. Of the knife. 

Now, Bucky thinks he understands why they woke him. If the mole, the Skrull, is Steve Rogers, who would know? No one except him. No one knows Steve like Bucky does. Wanda and Logan give Bucky significant looks; they know, too. Steve isn’t Steve. 

“No one respects Steve Rogers more than I do,” Bucky says firmly. 

Some of the tension leaves the Skrull - it’s the only explanation - so Bucky makes his mouth smile and says, “Come ‘ere.” 

Steve, the _real_ Steve, would never be fooled by this smile. The Skrull doesn't know him, doesn’t see the danger, and steps around Wade. Between one step and the next, Bucky lunges off the table and slams his broken shoulder into the Skrull’s chest. They both tumble to the ground, but Bucky’s legs tighten on the Skrull’s hips after he lands atop it, the knife now pressed against the Skrull’s throat. Even the real Steve wouldn’t survive a sliced-open carotid. 

“Who the hell are you?” Bucky snarls.

“What? Bucky, it’s me, it’s Steve,” the Skrull looks wide-eyed, but he’s not fighting. He’s utterly still. “Logan, Wanda, get him off me.”

“No, no way,” Bucky snaps. “Steve Rogers would never _demand_ respect from anyone.”

Steve laughs.

“That’s... Seriously? You think I’m a Skrull? You’ve only been awake ten minutes. Besides, it’s been, what? Twenty years? You don’t know me anymore and I clearly don’t know you. Wade, help me out here.”

“Nah, this is good,” Wade answers. “Anyone got popcorn?”

Bucky narrows his eyes at the Skrull.

“You forgot Debbie.”

“Debbie? What…? Seriously? How long ago _was_ that?”

“How’d we meet, Steve?” Bucky demands.

“I… Um…”

Bucky’s lip curls in a snarl.

“Forgotten how you met your best friend? What’s my mom’s name?”

“She...I…”

“Where’d we have our first kiss?”

“Kiss?” the Skrull repeats with no little surprise.

Bucky leans lower, presses the knife against the Skrull’s throat. 

“You’re not Steve Rogers.”


	2. Skrulls Are People Too

Blood is dripping down the fake Steve Rogers’ throat, but Bucky won’t let the nausea he feels at that sight to take hold. It’s not Steve; he’s completely certain it’s not. Steve, his Steve, would never act like a pompous, entitled blue-blood. His Steve would know about Debbie and Bucky’s heart break. He sure as hell wouldn’t forget that they’d kissed, considering they’d been each other’s everything for half a decade. 

There’s a whirling, electronic sound and Bucky tenses, but the repulsor blast is blocked by a wall of shimmering red light.

“Wanda, huh,” Tony Stark asks conversationally. “You wanna tell me why you three are standing by while Ripley there tries to kill my husband?”

“He’s not your husband,” Bucky growls. “He’s not Steve.”

Tony hesitates, stepping slowly closer.

“You want to run that by me again.”

“Go on, _Stevie_ ,” Bucky growls, “Tell your husband how we met.”

“I...It was, on a train…”

“Wrong,” Bucky cuts in. “We met when we were kids, and neither of our families could afford a goddamn train ticket.”

“Tony, come on, help me,” the Skrull pleads and it’s perfect, so much like Steve that Bucky would believe it if he didn’t know better.

“Tell him where we had our first kiss,” Bucky insists sarcastically.

“First...kiss?” Tony repeats. “Steve, you didn’t tell me you and Barnes…”

“I didn’t,” the Skrull starts, “I mean, it’s not true. He’s making this up! They… The Skrulls must have replaced him and they’re trying to discredit me!”

“Skrulls replacing enhanced humans would be news, but they can’t replace that arm,” Logan says dryly, tapping his cigar so ash falls onto the clean white tile. “Wanda, if you don’t mind?”

“Sorry, Sergeant,” Wanda murmurs.

Bucky just shrugs and shifts a little so she can pull the black covering off what remains of his metal arm. The shoulder and everything beneath are cold metal. No faking that. Keeping the knife at the Skrull’s throat, Bucky looks to Tony who looks like his world has been ripped apart.

“No,” Tony says slowly, the hand covered by the Iron Man glove falling. “No, that’s not… I would _know_ …”

“I’m sorry, Stark,” Bucky says sincerely, feeling nothing but pity for the man. 

Wanda walks up to him, putting an arm around his shoulders, but Tony shrugs her off. 

“How long?” he demands. 

The Skrull, to Bucky’s surprise, flinches and looks away. As if it hurts him to see Tony in pain. That’s...interesting. So the aliens have feelings. That might be useful information at some point. Or not, Bucky hasn’t a clue.

“Talk,” Bucky snaps, “or I start cutting.”

“Oh, oh!” Wade pulls a sword. “I wanna do the cutting! Let me!”

“Four years,” the Skrull says dully. 

Tony’s legs give out and his knees hit the floor..

“Aww, I never get to have any fun,” Wade pouts, the sword sliding back into its sheath with an angry thump.

“You… I… We’ve,” Tony sounds like he’s having trouble breathing, “only been together...three...”

“Tony,” Wanda says softly, looking all the world like she wants to wrap him in a hug.

“Ooo, ouch,” Wade says, leaning forward curiously, “That’s a punch right to the nuts. What’s it like, dating an alien?”

Looking away from the Skrull, Tony shuts his eyes tightly.

“Bet the sex is awkward,” Wade goes on.

“Shut up!” the Skrull snarls at Wade, capturing Bucky’s attention again. The droplet of blood has left a pink line down his neck, leading to his collar. “Tony, listen to me, it’s not what you’re thinking. It’s not, I swear.”

Tony’s dark eyes swivel back to the Skrull and that seems to give the creature hope.

“It was orders at first, I can’t deny that, but it’s not...It hasn’t been for a long time. Tony...I love you.”

“Shut up,” Tony says dully. “I don’t know you.”

“Logan,” Wanda says softly, nodding towards Tony.

Taking the hint, Logan helps Tony to his feet. 

“Come on, big guy,” Logan rumbles, still gruff, but gentle. Kind. “Let’s get you a drink, huh?”

“Make it talk, Barnes,” Tony orders as Logan turns him towards the door. “Find where they put my… Where they put Steve.”

“Tony,” the Skrull says weakly.

Even though it’s not Steve’s eyes, it hurts Bucky to see those tears fall, slipping down pink skin. They slip into his hair, gold against white, and Bucky hates him. Hates him for not being Steve, for taking this from Bucky, and making him believe Steve had left him behind. The anger drowns his sympathy.

“I want to know everything,” Bucky growls, shaking the Skrull to get his attention. “How are you in contact with your superiors? Where are they keeping Steve and the others? What are you orders?”

The creature doesn’t answer, just stares after Tony with his heart in his eyes. Steve looked like that when Bucky left to deploy overseas. It eats at Bucky, that resemblance. No, he doesn’t know this enemy, but he sees how much more painful the Skrull can be as an enemy.

“Answer me!” Bucky demands, shaking the alien again.

Instead of doing so, the breath it drags through Steve’s lungs is as shaky and gasping as any when Steve was going to have an asthma attack. It’s alarming enough that Bucky goes still atop the creature. What the hell is going on here? Does it really… Fuck, the alien really is in love with Tony. That realization soothes some of Bucky’s anger, at least so he realizes the current tactic isn’t going to work.

“Hey,” Bucky says gently, earning a look from Wanda and Wade, but also getting the Skrull to focus Steve’s eyes on him. “You got a shot to win him back here. Work with us. Help us and prove to him it wasn’t all a lie.”

“And maybe lose the Cap face?” Wade suggests. “It’s only a _liiiittle_ creepy.”

The face and body beneath Bucky warps, shimmering and shifting into a new one. Steve’s skin becomes a sickly, olive green, dotted with black spots. His ears grow, taking up most of his head and sticking out to the sides like giant bat’s ears. They’re fuzzy, too, almost soft looking. Its eyes are huge, dark violet, like something out of those anime’s Bucky’s read about. His mouth and nose, too, are like those weird Japanese cartoons, too small and pointed.

Wanda makes a sound of disgust, but Bucky doesn’t know what to feel. The alien is, well, _alien_. And in love with Tony Stark, who could have guessed?

“Okay, nope, that’s worse,” Wade declares. 

The body shimmers and shifts again, not back to Steve, but an older man, maybe mid-forties. He still has blonde hair, but his eyes are muddy brown, and he’s nowhere near as fit as Steve. It’s a lot easier to look at his tears now, which is not a good thing for the Skrull if he doesn’t decide to cooperate.

“Well?” Bucky prompts. “You willing to risk everything to get him back?”

“Yeah,” the Skrull says thickly. “Okay, I’ll help.”

Bucky grins ferally. 

“Good choice.”

“Are there more of you among us?” Wanda demands, stepping to Bucky’s side.

The Skrull shakes his head.

“As far as I know, I am the only one of my kind that can take on an enhanced form.”

“None of the other humans are Skrull?” Bucky presses.

“No, I’m the only one.”

“So Wade was right,” Wanda crosses her arms, “You were sabotaging our work and no one was the wiser because who would suspect Steve.”

Nodding, the Skrull licks his lips. 

“I’m...I’m sorry.”

“Pfft,” Wade makes the noise and it’s so strange Bucky nearly lets the Skrull up, “You’re just in it for the D.”

“The what?” Bucky asks.

“I am not!” the Skrull shouts. “Tony is so much more than…”

It stops talking abruptly, blushing, and Bucky sighs.

“You’re gonna have to give him time, even with you helping us. You know that, right? You gotta prove yourself.”

The Skrull takes a deep breath and nods.

“Get me a chair,” Bucky instructs, “and some kind of cuffs. If he can turn into Steve, they need to be strong.”

“Told you,” Wade says to Wanda. 

Bucky has no clue what that means and doesn’t much care because they get him the chair and cuffs. Their weirdly shaped, like a C instead of the usual O, but when he gets them on the Skrull - the thing doesn’t put up a fight, just holds out his wrists - they lock together with a dull thud. In this place, Bucky imagines they would hold even him. It’s a sobering thought.

“Up,” Bucky instructs, getting to his feet and backing up. 

The Skrull continues its good behavior, sitting down in the offered chair. There’s not so much as a twitch, or glance, that indicates he’s thinking of escape. Wade still takes up a position between the Skrull and the door, the butterfly knife once more flashing through his fingers. Wanda brings another two chairs, one for Bucky, and sits at his side, though she leans back, obviously indicating that Bucky is to take the lead. So, Bucky decides to be diplomatic. He’s not gonna put the knife away, but he can at least play nice.

“What do we call you?” Bucky asks.

“Anelle,” the Skrull answers.

“Where’s Steve?” 

“With the other prisoners in the Hive,” Anelle says, “The Hive is in western Arizona. I will provide you coordinates if you have something to write with…?”

Getting up again, Bucky goes to the nearest desk and digs through the drawers, but can’t scare up a pen or paper, let alone a clipboard. Everything is so high tech, gleaming metal and white. They probably use tablets for their notes, or put them directly onto the computers. No need for pens in the technology age.

“Never a good pen around when you need to stab someone,” Wade sighs exaggeratedly. “Oh, sorry, not the Bourne Identity.”

“What’s the matter with you?” Bucky asks, looking over at Wade with no little worry.

“What isn’t!?” Wade laughs and it’s weirdly high pitched. “Hey, so, you and Cap, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Bucky says hesitantly, still looking for a pen with little success.

“That’s hot,” Wade fans his masked face, as if that does some good, “Think you’d want a threesome? I’m available.”

Somehow the mask’s eyebrows wiggle.

“Uh…” Bucky says, unable to do anything but stare. 

Thankfully, Wanda hits pay dirt in a supply cabinet and comes over to hand Bucky a pen and paper.

“Wade,” she says sternly, “leave Bucky alone.”

“Aw, come on, Red,” Wade whines, “Can’t you _imagine_ it? Pinned between Captain America and the Winter Soldier? All those muscles?” Somehow he wiggles his entire body and then pulls all his limbs in tight, elbows bent and hands clasped against his chest. “Skin and lips and you know they can go for _hours_ , over and over and - oops…” Glancing at his crotch, Wade shrugs. “Got too excited.”

“Ugh,” Wanda spins away, hair flipping over her shoulder she moves so quickly.

“Seriously,” Wade says to Bucky, “When you’re reunited with your beau, think of me.” He leans in, voice dropping to a low purr. “Carnally.”

“Okay, Wade, no,” Bucky says firmly. “Even if Steve still wants me, it’s not going to happen.”

“Oh, that’s a good one,” Wade laughs, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye, “Cap not want _you_. You’re the protagonist of every fanfiction story, of course he wants you. He’s pined for you for decades.”

The man is clearly completely and utterly insane. No wonder no one believed him about the shape shifting space aliens. Bucky just stares at Wade before walking back to Anelle. 

“Coordinates,” he demands.

Several hours later, Bucky, Wanda and Wade have learned everything Anelle knows about his comrades, their plans, and where the hostages are being kept. It’s a relief they weren’t killed, but Anelle explains they wanted to make sure the DNA source was still available if something happened to a Skrull replacing them. Apparently, they can’t take a sample from dead tissue, so a live captive is necessary. 

It’s the best news Bucky has had all day. In years, in fact. Steve is alive and so are the other captives, but _Steve is alive_. Maybe he started this whole thing with Tony, maybe he doesn’t want Bucky, but there’s a chance now. A chance he can make up for going into cryo, for leaving Steve on his own for so long, for not taking the _risk_ of being near. Of being a friend, even when he couldn’t remember that they had been more.

“What now?” Wanda asks.

It’s a surprise. Throughout this affair, she’s appeared to be the one in charge. Yet she had deferred to him at every moment. Her power sits with her comfortably now, a part of her and not something she’s either trying to control, or hide. More often than not, Wade actually listens to her, and Logan had as well. Nevertheless, she doesn’t want to be in charge. It’s a very interesting characteristic.

“Rest,” Bucky answers, “and then we go get them back. Blow this whole thing wide open. All right?”

“Told you!” Wade repeats, his hands flailing a little. “Why don’t you people ever listen to me?”

“Don’t be a child,” Wanda snaps.

Wade...pouts. It’s disconcerting since Bucky _still_ can’t see his face. The posture, the way the mask twitches, it’s undoubtedly a pout.

“That’s enough,” Bucky says sternly. “I don’t care who leads. I’m going to get Steve back and either you can help, or you can stay out of my way. Is that clear?”

“I’ll let everyone know,” Wanda says genially.

“I’ll, uh…” Wade scratches his head.

“Watch the prisoner?” Bucky supplies.

Wade snaps his fingers.

“Make dinner! Thanks, Cap.”

“I’m not Steve,” Bucky frowns.

“Oh, right, that’s not for a few more years. My bad!”

The assuredly insane ‘enhanced human’ _skips_ from the room.

“Okaayy,” Bucky says, drawing out the word while taking a deep breath, “I guess I’ll watch the prisoner. Up, Anelle.”

“We have prison cells,” Wanda starts, but Bucky slashes his hand through the air.

“No,” he says firmly, “Your people are going to want his head for this. Stark’s already proven he’s happy to kill the people who hurt him. He stays with me until this is over.” Looking at Anelle, Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Got that?”

“Thank you, Sergeant,” Anelle says softly. “I am indebted to the mercy you have shown me.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Bucky says ominously. “If Steve’s dead, yours is the first head on the block.”

Bowing from the shoulders, Anelle says nothing. Bucky shakes his head and turns back to Wanda. Her gaze is as dark and unreadable as ever.

“I should talk to T’challa before I turn in. Where can I find him?”

“His apartments are the same as when you came here the first time,” Wanda answers. ”Would you like me to…?”

“No,” Bucky shakes his head, “I know the way. Thanks, doll.”

“Doll?” Wanda repeats, rolling the word suspiciously.

Bucky smirks.

“It’s all that delicate bone structure. I’m sure you’re the toughest doll around.”

Looking at him speculatively, Wanda turns and walks away. Bucky goes to find the King of Cats.


	3. Bucky Meets the Resistance

Anelle stands to the right of T’challa’s desk, within Bucky’s eyesight, even if it puts him dangerously close to the Wakandan King. Bucky figures he might be able to get between them if he attacks, but he’s counting on the man’s generosity. It was expansive last they met, even if that was fifteen years ago. He doesn’t actually expect an attack to occur; after everything T’challa has done for him, he has Bucky’s trust.

“This...imposter,” T’challa motions to Anelle once Bucky is done explaining what’s happened, “you believe it?”

“I do,” Bucky answers sincerely, “or, I believe he’s in love with Tony, and love makes people do things they’d never consider.”

“The Skrull do not have gender, Sergeant. They are both genders and neither.”

“Uh...okay?” Bucky isn’t sure how that’s relevant.

“You called it a ‘he’.”

Bucky stares. Seriously? 

“Anelle is presenting as a he. If _he_ decides to present as a she, I’ll call Anelle _her_. I’m not calling him _it_. He’s not a possession or an object. Unless,” Bucky looks to Anelle, “you want me to call you something else?”

T’challa frowns.

“ _He_ is fine,” Anelle says simply. “I have grown used to being a human male.”

“I see,” T’challa’s frown smoothes out again. “You have a plan to free Captain Rogers?”

“Yes,” Bucky says, “or at least I have an idea. I need to know what we’re working with, how many people, soldiers, their...abilities. The Hive isn’t… It isn’t going to be a cakewalk. The upshot is they don’t know we’re coming. We strike hard and fast before they realize Anelle is with us, and we stand a real chance of getting our people back.”

T’challa nods slowly. It’s a relief to see Bucky wasn’t wrong to peg him as a good guy.

“My people have constructed a replacement prosthetic for when you awoke, Sergeant. If you desire, we can have the surgery to have it installed as soon as possible. Give you as much time to get used to it as possible.”

“How long will that take?” Bucky asks because there _is_ a time element here.

“The surgery? A few hours. You must also rest and eat, Sergeant. Cryo is not easy, even for one with your enhancements.”

Bucky blows out a breath through his nose. Pausing to rest and eat, actually sit down and take in food was not on his to-do list. That list contains anything and everything necessary to find Steve and that’s it. Still, T’challa is probably right. He’ll be no good to Steve or anyone else if he passes out in the middle of a battle.

“Okay, but I’m concerned for Anelle’s safety.”

“Ah, you believe there will be retaliation?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says flatly.

“I will ensure he is well protected, Sergeant. He is a prisoner, a cooperating one; that deserves certain...leniencies.”

“We don’t kill or torture the enemy,” Bucky says, voice hard. “Cooperation or no. They’re _prisoners_.”

T’challa smiles.

“Of course not, Sergeant. Now, if you don't mind, I have a concern of my own.”

Frowning, Bucky motions for the King to go ahead. What could concern T’challa cannot be good. He refuses to be nervous, though, not with someone he's trying to consider a friend.

“Did Ms. Maximoff remove the coded triggers in your mind?”

Bucky’s frown deepens.

“I kinda just assumed she did.” Stomach clenching, hands tightening it fists, he says, “You have the ledger. Use them and let's find out.”

“Or we could just ask Ms. Maximoff.”

The tension flows out of Bucky. 

“Yeah, yeah, okay.”

Chuckling gently, but not mockingly, T’challa motions to the door.

“If you head back to the lab you awoke in, I will send my doctors and technicians to prepare you for surgery and contact Ms. Maximoff while you are occupied.”

Bucky takes a breath and nods. The King of Wakanda is surprisingly easy to deal with. At least once he’s expected to be scolded for snapping at him, but he’s taken everything Bucky has to say very seriously. 

“Okay. Make sure they understand we’re under a time constraint here.”

“I will not have my surgeons rush, Sergeant. Your wellbeing is too important.”

\----

One five-hour long surgery, two entire New York-style pizzas, three whole hours of sleep, and fifteen hours later, Bucky is standing in front of the weirdest squad of soldiers he’s ever seen. In total, there are fifty of them: Mutants, Inhumans, and enhanced humans all crowded into a small amphitheater. Wanda has assured him they all know what happened to Steve, that they know his code words have been removed - Bucky can't help repeat that fact to himself over and over - and not a single friendly eye looks towards Anelle - Tony can’t look at him at all - but T’challa has assured Bucky that there were no incidents while he was otherwise occupied. It’s honestly more than he could ask for.

There are no friendly faces looking Bucky’s way, either. Oh, he knows people, but the only person he could consider a friend in this century is lying somewhere in the Skrull Hive. That not everyone is a stranger is a relief. Wanda and Wade stand a little behind him on the stage, a bit like a cheerleading section. Anelle stands in the back, to Bucky’s right, with T’challa at his side. Logan, the only other person Bucky recognizes, is lounging in the front row, smoking and irritating the dark-haired man with ruby glasses at his side.

Taking the mic from the podium, Bucky walks to the edge of the stage and sits. Standing feels too serious, or like he wants to be above these people. Bucky doesn’t want that. He wants their help and he wants their commitment. Then he can go back to being just Bucky Barnes.

“I’m told everyone here knows what happened to Steve,” Bucky begins, “That, as far as we know, the Captain America leading the revolution was never the real deal. Sorry, he’s Nomad now. Still getting used to that. Does anyone have any questions about that before we get started?”

The brown haired man at Logan’s side raises his hand.

Bucky nods to him, “Yes, Mr…?”

“Scott Summers.”

“What’s on your mind, Mr. Summers?”

“How do we know our location isn’t compromised, or if that Skrull hasn’t set listening devices around everywhere?” Scott asks. “I understand you think he’s cooperating, but he could just be playing along.”

Bucky nods. From the murmur that goes through those gathered, Scott wasn’t the only one to think of the probability. It’s a good question, one Bucky’s glad to get out of the way fairly quickly. 

“We considered that. We’ve also had fifteen hours since we discovered Anelle’s presence -”

A red gloved hand shoots into the air. The spider kid from the airport, Bucky thinks. Behind him, Wade makes kissy noises and Bucky sees the kid’s face turn scarlet. It’s a little adorable, but Bucky just thinks it’s nice that these heros don’t wear their masks around each other. Well, except for Wade.

Spider kid doesn’t wait for Bucky’s permission to speak.

“Anelle? Is that the Skrull?”

“It’s not a person,” Tony snaps, “It doesn’t have a name.”

A wave of irritation washes through Bucky. On the one hand, he understands Tony’s hurt and lashing out. On the other, they need Anelle’s help to get Steve back. For a genius, Tony is seriously an idiot.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark for that very unhelpful and incorrect statement,” Bucky says coldly. Addressing the Spider kid again, he says, “Yes, his name is Anelle. We don’t trust him, not completely, so we’re verifying all the information he gave us. However, he is genuine about wanting to help us. Apparently, you all grew on him. He claims he’s been passing bad information for the last six months, though we have no way to prove that.”

There’s a murmur and it’s angry as hell, but Bucky didn’t expect anything less.

“Look,” Bucky says loudly, “I know you’re angry. I know this is a war I’ve only been a part of one day and it’s been the last three years of your lives. You’ve lost a lot of friends,” Bucky had cringed when he found out the Skrull had kidnapped, imprisoned, or murdered all the psychics they could get their hands on. The rest are all hiding in places the Resistance can’t even find. “Now your leader turns out to be a traitor. It may be hard to believe he’s been on our side for a while now, but I believe him. You’ll each have to make up your minds on what you think. If you don’t want to come with us to rescue the others because you think it’s a trap, that’s fine. I, for one, will understand.”

This time, the rumble of voices is speculative. There’s still a healthy dose of angry glances thrown towards Anelle, but most of the eyes stay on Bucky. Speculative, assessing; deciding if he’s worthy to follow or not. Bucky knows they won’t be easy to convince, not after everything that’s happened with Steve and certainly not with Bucky’s personal history. That’s fine. As long as some of them join them, they have a shot at saving Steve.

Sure enough, another hand goes up. This one belongs to a man with blue skin and what Bucky thinks might be fangs. 

“Mr…?” Bucky prompts.

“Kurt is fine,” he says in a heavy accent, “I am not certain why we should trust you at all, Mr. Barnes. You _are_ the Winter Soldier; the Fist of Hydra.”

“I _was_ ,” Bucky corrects sharply, feeling an odd buzzing in his brain, “Before that, I was Steve Rogers’ lover and his best friend.” He lifts his new metal hand. “You know Wanda and she's assured you the triggers allowing others to control my mind are gone. You also know I’m not a Skrull; a copy would have two flesh arms and you can _trust_ that I’m going to get the real Steve back if I have to burn half the world down to do it. I’m not going to say I didn’t do everything you’re thinking. I’ve probably done worse, and while I was...not myself, it was still me. You don’t want to follow me for that reason, I won’t blame you for that either.” 

Bucky leans forward and bares his teeth.

“But you better believe, you get in my way when I go for Steve, I _will_ go through you.”

“Yeah, baby!” Wade cheers, “You go get your man!”

Looking back, Bucky stares at Wade before turning back around.

“Any more questions?”

There aren’t and, to Bucky’s immense surprise, they don’t require more convincing. One by one, he goes over their abilities and powers, where their strengths lie in combat, and their weaknesses. It takes a few hours, but it’s easier for Bucky to learn people this way. Considering Steve’s life is literally on the line, he’s not going to half-ass a single aspect of this mission.

When they’re finished, the plan flushes out in Bucky’s mind. He’s not Steve, but he thinks it’s a pretty damn good one.

“Ha,” Wade cackles, “Oh, man, this is gonna be good.”


	4. The Hive

The Hive lives up to its name, though not from the outside. The satellite imagery provided by T’challa shows an old observatory. Government checkpoints keep out any unwanted visitors, and the guards are heavily armed. For an observatory, the security is a strange addition, but what’s really off is the amount of traffic the little warehouse gets. Day and night, there’s a stream of cars packing the observatory’s tiny parking lot. That alone lends support to Anelle’s intel that the observatory is just the top floor of a massive underground complex the Skrull built to house their prisoners as well as stage their world takeover. Lucky for them; two birds, one stone.

Set on a bluff, the Skrull guarding the observatory have a clear view of the surrounding flat terrain. There’s no way they won’t see them coming, so Bucky is counting on a distraction to get the rest of his tiny army into the Hive. Wade, Logan, a Mutant going by Archangel, the spider kid, and Shatterstar are that distraction because they possess the ability to heal rapidly from heavy damage. Drawing out the enemy will be the most dangerous job, for obvious reasons, and Bucky intends for his little rag-tag group to have minimum casualties. 

The distraction team hits the base with a bang. Archangel drops Shatterstar over the fence and tears off to deal with the guards to the north. Shatterstar heads south, the first wave of the distraction, so Kurt can teleport in Wade, Parker, and Logan one by one. It’s quickly a bloodbath. Shatterstar is a blur of blades, his technique flawless. Archangel’s metal wings not only protect him from the guards’ bullets, they fire back without him having to engage hand to hand. Once the last of the team joins in, the guards don’t stand a chance. Parker is the only one hesitant about taking lives, as there is the chance they’re just regular folks. Without a way to tell Skrull from human, it’s too dangerous to leave them alive. 

Steve would have hated the decision, but Steve isn’t here. 

As the last of the guards go down, the doors to the observatory crash open and a stream of enemies pour through. Armed with assault rifles, decked out in tactical gear, and moving with the ease of long training, they’re a significant force. Barriers rise from the packed orange earth, the parking lot, and around the building itself are quickly put to use by the Skrull reinforcements as cover. It’s more resistance than Bucky had expected, but Logan doesn’t radio in for backup, and Bucky doesn’t want to second guess his team leader. 

The distraction team takes more than a few bullets, but it hardly slows them down. Parker is the only one in any real danger, considering his healing factor is the slowest, but the kid has learned how to do a lot more than swing and kick since they’d last met. From the roof of the observatory, he shoots webbing to pin down Skrull soldiers when any of the others are a little overwhelmed. Whenever the Skrull notice him, they try to pin him down with gunfire, but he just darts to another side of the roof, out of sight. It’s as irritating and demoralizing to the enemy as watching Wade take a bullet to the chest without slowing. 

When it’s clear the five Mutants are more than capable of destroying the Skrull’s defenses, the real guns come into play. Eight laser machine gun turrets rise from the roof and open fire on friend and foe alike. The things shoot rapid fire, the rounds burning straight through a man. The wounds are cauterized, but they continue to burn the surrounding tissue, causing as much pain as actual damage. A hit won’t kill any of the distraction team, but the guns pin them down as they can’t destroy them.

“Support would be nice now,” Logan growls.

Bucky smiles and sends in their air support. 

In a stream of multicolored lights and clouds of smoke, Tony, War Machine, Johnny Storm, Wanda, the Enhanced Staff Sergeant Axon, and the Mutants Sprite and Banshee take off for the observatory. Bolts of lightning errupt from Axon’s golden hands, bullets and missiles from both Iron Man and War Machine’s suits, while Johnny Storm launches bolts of pure fire and the turrets are decimated before they can redirect their fire to the new threat.

Banshee, Wanda, and Sprite attack the last of the Skrull soldiers pinned down by their own guns behind cover. Bucky supposes he shouldn’t be surprised the little blue pixie girl, Sprite, is so effective in hand to hand combat, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t. She flits on her four faerie wings faster than the eye can blink, knocking grown men flying through the air. Banshee is a force all his own, screaming so loudly Bucky can hear it without the comm unit. Said scream so powerful it shatters concrete barriers and sends guards falling to their knees, hands over their ears. Wanda, well, she’s a little terrifying. Where she walks, Skrull soldiers fall to fever dreams and hallucinations while she simultaneously lifts those too far away into the air, only to dash them against the earth, or against the sides of the building.

When a second battery of turrets rises from the earth, they don’t stand a chance.

“Kurt,” Bucky says, his mouth dry, “start sending us over there.”

“With pleasure,” the tailed Mutant says, taking Bucky’s arm. 

With a puff of sulfuric blue smoke, Bucky finds himself standing next to Wanda. Then Kurt vanishes again, leaving behind more acrid smoke, only to reappear with Anelle in his cuffs. In moments, the entire little army is standing amidst the carnage of the battlefield. 

“Wanda, Banshee, Beast,” Bucky calls, “make us a door, please.”

Wisely, everyone backs away from the three in question as well as the nearest observatory wall. Rather than figure out how to get into the structure, they’re just going to blast their way in. Crude, sure, but it will save them time. Bucky worries, if they aren’t quick, they’ll end up in a hostage situation.

Leaving them to tear down the structure, Bucky turns to Shatterstar.

“I want to leave you and Axon up here in case they send reinforcements, or bring in the real army. You’re in charge, and I can spare three more men to stay with you. Who do you want?”

“Cyclops, Banshee, War Machine and Iron Man,” Shatterstar answers immediately.

Bucky isn’t surprised; the Mutant is as natural a leader and tactician as Steve. Likely, he’s running down all possible scenarios in his head now, creating plans and countermeasures. It’s why Bucky picked him. That, and he reminds Bucky enough of Steve that he trusts the white-clad hero.

“That’s four,” Bucky says dryly, “and I’d rather have Cyclops leading a team. What about Johnny?”

Shatterstar considers and nods, but doesn’t bother apologizing for picking four instead of three.

“That is a wise course of action,” Shatterstar agrees. “His abilities are better utilized above ground as well.”

A rumble shakes the ground, Banshee lets out an ear splitting scream, and a cloud of dust rises into the air.

“I’m going down there,” Tony declares, abruptly at Bucky’s elbow. “You’re not stopping me, Barnes. I’m going to help you find him.”

Bucky turns to stare at Tony, searching the rich brown eyes. Standing this close to a man who tried to kill him what feels like days ago is unnerving, but Bucky is honestly more worried about what Tony might try with Anelle. And, if he’s being honest, what Tony might try with Steve. Though the latter he can’t allow to affect his reasoning.

“You can come,” Bucky says and watches surprise flicker through Tony’s eyes, “on the condition that you swear to me you won’t cause Anelle harm unless he turns on us.”

For the first time, Tony looks at the Skrull who had impersonated Steve. The pain and anger in that gaze is a physical thing that even Bucky, between them, can feel. Anelle lifts his chin, but the despair is as clear in his eyes as the anger in Tony’s. Bucky can honestly not imagine what the alien is going through and, frankly, doesn’t want to know. Sympathy isn’t a luxury he can afford with Steve’s life on the line.

“One toe out of line,” Tony hisses, “and I’ll be the one to cut your throat. Is that clear?”

Anelle nods, just once, and Tony whirls back to Bucky.

“You have my word, Barnes. I won’t harm a hair on the thing’s head.”

“His _name_ is Anelle,” Bucky says, voice hard. Well, there goes not feeling sympathy. “I get you’re pissed off, Tony, but he’s _helping_ us.”

“Whatever,” Tony snaps, deliberately turning away.

Bucky doesn’t have time to deal with his temper tantrum. Barking orders, he gets everyone not staying top-side organized into three teams. One under Cyclops, one under Logan, and one under Bucky himself. Logan’s mission is to clear the upper levels, where Anelle assures them most of the combat troops will be. Cyclops’ team will take the middle levels where Anelle said the scientists inhabit and experiments are conducted. Bucky, Tony, Wanda, Anelle, Wade, and Kurt will be dropping straight to the lower levels where the prisoners are kept in a place pleasantly known as The Pit. There are supposed to be few guards, the Skrull relying on their tech to keep their prisoners secure, so Bucky is leaving most of his fighting force to deal with the threats on the upper and mid levels.

Logan’s team heads through the breach first, Wanda and Wade with them to help hold the exit. The Skrull aren’t done putting up a fight, however, and the Resistance haven't exactly been subtle about how they’re breaking in, so they’re waiting. The Skrull have even managed to set up somewhat of a blockade. Explosions crash against various kinds of shields, and they slowly push forward until the close combat fighters can get in and start swinging. 

The fighting is as brutal as it was outside. Inside, though, they’re certain the enemies are all Skrull because the creatures have mostly forgone their shapeshifted disguises. The Resistance has no trouble knocking them down one at a time, or making the fall permanent. They’ve all lost so much, a family, a home, respect, or reputation. They’ve been pushed so far and this, finally taking the fight to the Skrull, is a release.

Bucky keeps his eyes on Anelle. The effect of seeing so many of his own kind murdered, knowing he’s the cause, cannot be easy. Lips pressed into a thin line, Anelle’s borrowed human face is pale, but he doesn’t flinch from the sight. He watches what his actions have caused, tears filling his eyes, but without lifting a finger to help his people. Not that he could, but Bucky has to admire that stoicism and resolve. It’s commitment, or a trap; he’s not sure which just yet.

When he finally looks away, he realizes Tony is staring at Anelle as attentively as Bucky had been. 

“Tony,” Bucky murmurs.

“Don’t,” Tony snaps. “Trust that I still haven’t forgotten you killed my parents, Barnes. The only reason I’ve even dealt with that is because…”

Bucky blinks.

“Stark,” he says carefully, “Steve is the most repressed man I’ve ever met. He doesn’t...talk about feelings. If you got help with that from...from your husband, it was Anelle, not...” 

Bucky licks his lips and thinks, _Fuck it._

“You don’t like me, that’s fine, I really don’t like you much either. Your dad was kind of a dick, too. I’m sorry he’s dead and I’m sorry I was made to kill him, but I’m not about to beg your forgiveness. I frankly don’t deserve it. Instead, I’m trying to tell you the guy you fell for was _never_ Steve. How he fooled anyone is really beyond me, so whoever you married, whoever made you happy, it wasn’t a copy. It’s that guy, there, betraying his people for us. A creepy-looking alien, sure, but looks aren’t everything. Just look at your ugly mug.”

Tony actually huffs a laugh, much to Bucky’s surprise.

“I need to see Steve,” Tony says, dark eyes softer, but no less intense, “I need to _know_ they’re not the same because I fell in love with Steve Rogers, not that...thing.”

“Stark...”

“No,” Tony slashes a hand through the air, “I don’t really give a shit about _its_ feelings right now. We find Steve then… Then _maybe_ we address this again.”

They both turn back to Anelle to find the brown eyes now on them. Rather, on Tony. Hope, bright and fiery, burns in those eyes.

“Tony,” Anelle says, stepping closer. Iron Man’s face plate snaps down and he stops. “I’m so sorry, Tony. I didn’t… I didn’t know how I was supposed to tell you.”

“Yeah, I’ve betrayed you and everything you stand for wouldn’t go over well,” Tony snaps. “Do not speak to me.”

Bucky winces as some of the hope dies in Anelle’s eyes, but he just offers that little half-bow again and turns away. They all do, looking back to the fighting. Soon, Logan’s team breaks through the Skrull’s barricade, and Scott’s make their way to the laboratories. Bucky’s team follows, catching up with Wade and Wanda, and he gets his first real look at the Hive. The Arizona red earth has been twisted and molded, spiralling down and down into the earth. The levels appear to be supported by warped helical columns, each of which seems to be hollow as windows pepper their surfaces. Bridges, made of the same geometrically distorted orange-red clay, span from one level to the next, crossing the great chasm in the center of it all. 

They wait until they hear Scott’s team engage before Bucky sends Tony down the center shaft with Kurt. Since the teleporter requires a visual on where he’s transporting to and from, they have to get him down first. It’s a tense few minutes for everyone - except Wade, who just looks bored - and then a puff of blue smoke, and Kurt is at Bucky’s side. 

“Clear?” Bucky asks.

“Tony is dealing with a few Skrull, but clear,” Kurt confirms.

“All right, let’s move.”

Wade goes first, then Bucky, Anelle, and Wanda. One moment they’re standing at the top of the Hive, staring down into the black depths, the next their eyes and noses are filled with blue sulfuric smoke and they’re in The Pit. Tony is hovering two levels above them, turning slowly and looking for any active threats. Two Skrull are collapsed, half-hanging off ledges, and must be the ones Kurt had left Tony to deal with.

The structure is consistent with the higher levels; red clay grows from the earth in odd shapes like it’s been yanked upwards, like a child playing with taffy. Instead of windowed rooms and doors lining the walls and inside the spirals, the bottom two levels are barred cells that glow with an odd blue light. Water drips and runs straight out of the walls and the light is dimmer, the only source coming from the cells themselves. People are standing as close to the blue glow as they can, staring down at them. Bucky sees kings and senators, business tycoons and prime ministers, dirty and filthy, and looking at them with eyes shrunken into skulls from malnourishment. 

There’s so many more than he expected. More than the Resistance realized. 

“Anelle,” Bucky says dully, “Control room.”

“There are too many for me to teleport,” Kurt informs the group at large.

“We fight our way up,” Wanda declares without hesitation, only looking to Bucky for confirmation. He gives it with a nod; there’s no other choice. They fight their way free, or they leave everyone down here to rot. No one is prepared to leave them here, not when so much rests on this assault being a single, devastating attack. Get the prisoners, get Steve, then prove to the world the Skrull are real, and end the shadow war once and for all.

“Fucking finally,” Wade grumbles, drawing both his swords, “I haven’t killed anyone in at least ten minutes. Bea and Arthur are getting thirsty.”


	5. "Let’s blow this hellhole."

The control room Anelle leads them to is only manned by two Skrull who fall so quickly Wade starts complaining about a lack of proper bad guys. It’s sleek, though built seamlessly from red clay. Buttons, screens, switches and lights are built into the surfaces as if grown there. There’s not a panel, a wire, or screw to be seen. Of course, none of Bucky’s team understands how to use the various control panels, but Anelle assures them he can open any cell they desire.

“Okay,” Bucky says after a deep breath, “Kurt, Wanda, start clearing the floors one at a time. Anelle, show them how. Wade -”

“Yes, darling?”

“- you’re on protection duty. See a Skrull, kill it. Make sure none of the...humans panic and try to run past.”

It’s really weird to refer to his own species as, well, a species.

“All right!” Wade cheers, already heading back out to the floor, talking to himself. “Bea, Arthur, let’s go play with the naughty aliens.”

“Are we worried any of the humans may be disguised Skrull?” Wanda asks, fingers running along a seam of glass and clay as Wade’s voice fades away.

Bucky frowns, following the path of her fingers and the way the screen’s colors shift as if following them. Is she doing that, or is the tech doing that?

“Not sure we can do anything about that. Just...keep an eye out and don’t walk too close to the edges.”

From where he’s inspecting a panel full of switches and dials, Tony straightens.

“And Steve?” he demands.

Bucky wishes he could see Tony’s face behind the Iron Man plate.

“Anelle is going to take me,” Bucky answers. “After he shows the others how to work the controls.”

“You?” Tony interrupts, stalking closer. 

Tensing, Bucky has to keep himself from stepping in front of Anelle. Tony isn’t technically a threat, he’s an ally. Then again, he was last time they were together, too. That had turned out wonderfully, hadn’t it?

“Stark,” Bucky says sharply, “you’re the only one that can fly. There are way more prisoners than we expected. I need you to get word to Cyclops' team to come reinforce us. If the Skrull start attacking, if this is a trap and there are real numbers waiting for us, we don’t stand a chance.”

If he’s reading him right, Kurt is holding his breath and Wanda’s tense, fingers frozen at a point on the alien screen. At some point, Bucky wishes Tony would have learned to play nice in a group. Does he have any idea what this kind of behavior does to morale? A better question is probably to wonder if he cares.

Tony’s silent for a tense moment before nodding sharply. 

“Fine, but if he’s not all right, I’m coming for you too, Barnes.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, but Tony either doesn’t notice or ignores him, and strides out of the control room to fly back up, out of the pit. The group left behind lets out a collective breath in relief. Fucking Tony Stark, Christ. Bucky will take Wade’s crazy over this bullshit any day.

The controls turn out to be fairly simple. One of the switches turns on lights, so they’re no longer in danger of tripping over their own feet when they lose their light sources. A touch screen allows Kurt to select the cell he wants open and a button turns off the forcefield keeping the occupants inside. That leaves Wanda to usher the prisoners together, check for any injuries, and do whatever else she can to keep the world leaders calm.

Taking him by the shoulder, Bucky guides Anelle back out of the control room so he can show him the specially crafted cell they’ve made for Steve. Anelle leads the way across the bottom of the Hive to a small steel door that leads to a set of stairs. The stairs cut down, down into the earth to a tunnel that widens to accommodate the gigantic steel door at the end. Bucky is fairly certain he could have broken through on his own, but Anelle just presses his palm - shifted to his normal green - against a pad to the side and it hisses open. 

The room inside reminds Bucky too much of the cryo chamber he spent so many years trapped inside. It’s black from wall to wall, no longer packed dirt, but solid steel. Machines beep and whir in the walls, but there are cords and panels and wires here. What appears to be an actual cryo chamber sits in the center, but it’s open and empty, wisps of chilled air floating from the base. It makes Bucky’s skin crawl.

Charging weaponry, something like Stark’s repulsors only quieter, alert them too late that it’s a trap. Several dozen Skrull stand at the edges of the room, pointing energy weapons at Bucky. All Bucky sees is the one with a small handgun pressed to Steve’s temple. Though he looks tired, and probably doesn’t like being naked or bound, Steve looks completely unharmed. When he sees them, blue eyes widen and he shifts as if to stand, and the muzzle is drilled hard enough into the side of his head that he winces.

Bucky snarls, sighting the rifle he lifted off one of the fallen guards outside on the son-of-a-bitch keeping him from Steve. Tracing the arm holding the gun, he finds an old, wrinkled Skrull with a silver crown grinning at them in triumph. Hot and cold and fear race through Bucky as he stands helpless to stop the monster from taking Steve from him. He should have brought Stark. Should have said damn the other hostages and brought him with him. It’s too late now, and they’re going to pay for Bucky’s attempt at doing what Steve would want.

Anelle, hovering at Bucky’s side, goes very still as the alien leader clicks something in what Bucky can only assume is a language.

“She says surrender and we will not harm Captain America.” Anelle says quickly, his voice so soft even Bucky can barely hear him. “Resist and he dies first.” In the same breath, as if translating further, he adds, “Barter for me. Trust me; I’ll get him back.”

Bucky cuts his eyes sideways at the Skrull. Trusting Anelle is not something Bucky’s prepared to do, but considering they’re at a stalemate, he’s not sure they have many other options than to stand here and click at each other until Wanda, Wade, or Kurt figures out what’s going on. Even then, Bucky’s not sure how they get Steve out of this alive. The serum lets them survive a lot of things, but a bullet to the head isn’t one of them.

Grabbing Anelle’s arm, Bucky pulls the Skrull forward while letting his rifle swing loose on the strap over his shoulder. The knife at his belt is in his hand before the Skrull can twitch, pressed hard enough to Anelle’s throat that blood beads along the shining silver. Bucky knows they’ll have to make this convincing. One wrong move, one suggestion that Bucky won’t kill Anelle for Steve, and they’re done.

Then again, if it comes down to it, Bucky will do anything to keep Steve safe.

“Counter offer,” Bucky says, “Release him or I kill Anelle.”

“Anelle?” the Skrull leader says, the hand holding the gun shakes noticeably and apparently the thing can speak English, “You are alive?”

“Yes, mother,” Anelle answers.

Bucky twitches in surprise and the blade sinks deeper into Anelle’s skin. The Skrull’s eyes bug, and then harden. She - Bucky’s assuming, since Anelle had called her _she_ and mother - sneers, but bends down and yanks Steve to his feet.

“A trade,” she demands. “My son for your Captain.”

“Deal,” Bucky says, heart pounding. “Let him go. When he’s half-way here, I’ll release Anelle. Any tricks and I’ll make sure my first shot goes through his skull.”

Releasing Steve’s arm, the Skrull leader takes a step back, but her weapon remains trained on the back of Steve’s head. With his eyes fixed on Bucky, Steve approaches at a careful pace. Like he promised - what else can he do? - Bucky releases Anelle at the halfway point and the Skrull starts his own way across the room. Tension crackles through the room. Twitchy trigger fingers are more of a concern than anything else, except how they’re going to get out of this in one piece. There’s as much chance this is all a set-up as it’s real, and Bucky doesn’t breathe again until Steve is at his side, darting looks his way with the biggest blue eyes Bucky has ever seen.

Licking his lips, Bucky motions for silence, then moves half-in front of Steve, keeping his rifle trained on Anelle. Carefully, not wanting to spook the Skrull, he motions for Steve to back up. They do, tentatively, and Bucky prays Anelle really is on their side, because if he’s not they’re probably both about to die. They might anyway if Anelle doesn’t do something quick. 

None of the Skrull fire, however, apparently waiting on word from their leader, and she’s far more absorbed in her son. Hugging him to her, she pats him down as if checking for injuries, and clucks at the blood dripping from his throat. There’s clicking and other noises Bucky can’t identify and he and Steve are able to retreat another few steps down the tunnel.

Then the Skrull leader steps forward and lifts a hand, finger pointed imperiously at Steve and Bucky. Certain she’s about to order their execution, Bucky aims for the bitch's head and can only stare as, behind her, Anelle shifts, warping like water ripples so he’s wearing _Bucky’s_ face. A shout, and Anelle tears the restraints he’s wearing apart before launching himself among the Skrull warriors. Bucky, the real Bucky, can only stare with his mouth open as his body-double, sans one metal arm, tears the surprised Skrull apart. Not a single shot is fired, and Bucky thinks, maybe, he understands why people thought he was Captain America.

In moments, only the Skrull leader is left alive. Anelle’s Bucky-body is covered in blood and she stares at him in horror. Breathing hard, she clicks at him and Bucky’s reverie is broken. Dashing forward, he presses his rifle muzzle against her head and meets Anelle’s - his own - eyes.

“What do you want to do here?”

Bucky’s copied face twists in anguish before Anelle looks away. It’s consent, defeat, and capitulation in a motion. Allowing anything, his mother’s death, capture, whatever the real Bucky deems fit. It’s the last drop in a bucket that says Anelle, their enemy once, is now one of them. If there’s one thing Bucky can’t do, it’s kill a friend’s mom.

Twisting, Bucky swings the rifle so the butt connects with the Skrull’s head. She falls like a log and Anelle turns to watch, relief writ large on his borrowed features. 

“Can you get these off Steve and onto her?” Bucky asks, motioning at Steve’s cuffs. “Ensure she’s a prisoner and no one gets twitchy?”

Anelle’s face shifts from Bucky’s to the borrowed blonde hair and brown eyes. 

“There will be a key,” he assures and starts searching bodies.

Turning, Bucky smiles to find Steve hovering at his elbow. Like Anelle when he was posing as Steve, he doesn’t look a day older than Bucky last saw him. He’s watching Bucky with such naked hope that it doesn't matter they’re standing among a pile of bodies, or that Steve is naked, or that there’s a war raging above them. 

Bucky holds out his arms. “Been a long time, Stevie,” he murmurs.

The words are barely out of his mouth when Steve collides with him, nearly knocking them both over before Bucky can get his arms around Steve and regain his balance. With his wrists bound, Steve can’t put his arms around Bucky, but he tucks his fingers into Bucky’s belt and pulls hard while burrowing his face into Bucky’s neck. He’s shaking now, and Bucky doubts it's from the cold.

“You remember?” Steve whispers against his skin. 

“Everything,” Bucky nods, “Wanda -”

Steve’s head shoots up.

“Wanda? But that was too dangerous. She said you could get lost in the dream scape, or she could burn your brain out…”

Bucky’s finger on Steve’s lips stop what sounds like scolding. The only reason Bucky let him talk so long was to hear his voice. ‘Steve delivering a lecture’ is not his favorite voice; that honor goes to his bedroom voice, but it’s _Steve,_ and he sounds like every one of Bucky’s memories. From before Hydra, from after, from before the war _and_ after. It’s the only part of Steve, besides his gorgeous blue eyes, that hasn’t ever changed.

“You had been kidnapped by a Skrull and were being impersonated. It was worth the risk.”

“Bucky,” Steve half-whines, half-protests.

“I’m sorry, Stevie,” Bucky says earnestly, the apology he had already delivered to Anelle, “I didn’t remember us. I never would have left you like that if I’d remembered. I thought you were just a stupidly-dedicated friend, not...not my everything. Can you forgive me?”

Steve’s response is to mash their lips together in a brief, if bruising, kiss. The air feels pulled straight from Bucky’s lungs. _This_ was what was missing. This is confirmation that he’s not too late, that Hydra didn’t take everything. That somehow, Steve _waited_ for him.

“I missed you,” Steve whispers against his lips, “I missed you so much.”

Pressing their foreheads together and pushing his hand through Steve’s hair, Bucky promises, “I’m here. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Anelle clearing his throat breaks them apart, and Steve flushs brilliantly. Unlocking Steve’s cuffs, Anelle also offers up a pair of pants with only a little bit of blood on them. Neither Steve nor Bucky look to see which Skrull is now pantsless. It’s not necessary, and they don’t need the imagery lingering in their brains.

As Steve climbs into the clothing, Bucky slaps the cuffs on the Skrull’s leader and passes her to Anelle.

“Take the rear,” Bucky tells him, “and feel free to use my face if you need to kick any more ass.”

“You’re sure?” Anelle asks hesitantly.

Bucky nods and motions to his metal arm.

“We’re pretty easy to tell apart, don’t you think?”

Smiling, Anelle agrees. “If I need. Doubt the others will appreciate it.”

Chuckling, Bucky grabs one of the Skrull’s fallen guns and tosses it to Steve, then another to Anelle. 

“Let’s blow this hellhole.”

They return to the bottom of The Pit at a jog, Bucky in the lead. The sound of fighting is close at hand, far nearer than it should be and Bucky prays Tony found Cyclops and reinforcements. The entire situation, the relative ease of infiltration, using Steve as a hostage is now starting to feel like a trap. Not a great trap, but it doesn’t have to be clever to be effective.

Breaking into a flat-out run, Steve and Bucky dash up the spiralling levels with Anelle at their heels. On the fourth, just after the last of the prison cells, they find a cluster of humans huddled in one of the column spirals that looks to have once served as an armory. Just past them, Wade, Wanda, and Kurt are fighting with everything they have against an army of Skrull. With the open nature of the levels, Wanda is occupied with holding shields against bullets and lasers, while Wade and Kurt get in up close and personal. 

Free of his imprisonment, reunited with Bucky, and now armed, Steve is in his element. “Cover us from here,” Steve orders, dropping the gun at Bucky’s side and hurtling into the fray.

“Guess he’s in charge now?” Anelle asks, sounding amused as he leans his mother's unconscious body against the wall.

Dropping to a knee, Bucky takes aim at his first Skrull. 

“He’s always in charge.”

Since they’ve stopped behind Wanda’s shield, Bucky and Anelle only have to focus on the Skrull before them, ignoring not the ones across the level holding Wanda’s attention. Kurt is flashing in and out of the Skrull ranks, grabbing from the back and sides, teleporting away again, only to release the Skrull over The Pit for a forty foot drop. Wade and Steve are a whirlwind, slicing and punching, kicking and wreaking havoc among the Skrull. The lack of a shield doesn’t slow Steve down for a second. One thing hasn't changed, though, and that’s Steve's recklessness. Half-naked and no shield, he’s a tempting target and Bucky spends most of his shots on Skrull taking aim at Steve.

With Steve, Bucky and Anelle helping, Wade and Kurt aren’t losing any more ground. They aren't turning the tide, either. The Skrull are getting more reinforcements by the minute, and Tony has still not returned with Cyclops' team. Bucky is certain they were lured inside now, expected to split up, because there are waves of Skrull still left that had never been sent to the battle outside. Too many for it to be an accident.

Both Wade and Steve take bullets, the former cursing and swearing, the later gritting his teeth and fighting on. Bucky runs out of ammunition in the second weapon, drops the gun and joins Steve. They fight side by side and it's as natural, as easy, as anything Bucky has ever done. It's not nostalgia; they’d never fought like this until after Hydra made him into the Winter Soldier, but it's _good_. Even when he could barely remember Steve, he knew that fighting at his side was right. 

“I'm out!” Anelle calls from behind as Bucky’s metal elbow collides with the side of a Skrull’s skull, caving it in.

Grabbing the nearest fallen Skrull’s weapon, Bucky throws it back to him. Anelle has proved himself to be as competent a shot as Bucky ever was. Having him with them, shifted to either Steve or Bucky, wouldn't hurt, but they really do need the range of support. Wanda would be better, but they’re done for if her shields drop. There’s simply too many Skrull taking shots from the upper levels as they pour down the ramps.

As Bucky straightens back up from the throw, searing pain explodes along his side. He stumbles backward, gasping and hearing Steve call his name. There's no time to check on him, though, so Bucky grunts that he's fine and stumbles back into the fight. The pain flares fiercely, stealing his breath and slowing his movements. He can't stop, though, has to keep going. He lets the numbness, the blankness he knew as the Winter Soldier take over. 

The world constricts to the next punch, the next block, the next kill. Repeating over and over until there is nothing but the fight and the pain. It’s easy to fall into. Terrifying, really, if he lets himself think about it. Bucky doesn’t think, though. He fights and fights; will keep fighting until they put him down.

Steve’s arms around him snaps Bucky back to reality. For a moment, he struggles against the hold before letting Steve drag him away. As his mind comes back, the pain is even worse, and he sags in Steve's arms. Now he realizes they have reinforcements, that the Skrull are pinned between Kurt and Wade and Anelle; Anelle who is fighting with his face, side-by-side with Wade. They move as easily together as Steve and Bucky, but it wouldn’t be the first time they’ve fought together, would it?

Steve drops him against the wall, near the Skrull leader, and Bucky grunts with pain.

“Let me see,” Steve demands.

“‘S nothin’, Stevie,” Bucky tries to wave him away, “You’ve been shot yourself.”

“Bucky,” Steve snaps, “Let me see.”

Clicking his tongue, Bucky pulls his arm from his side and winces as Steve prods the edges of the wound. When he looks down, he sees a mass of melted skin, burned, blackened flesh, around a hole that looks to be straight through him. It’s not one of the most disturbing things Bucky has ever seen, not by a long shot, but it’s up there. It also explains the intensity of the pain. 

“Holy shit,” Steve gasps. “Y-you were fighting with this?”

“I’ve had worse,” Bucky mutters, swatting at Steve’s hands again. “Nothin’ we can do about it now; I ain’t bleeding. Get me a gun if you don’t want me up front, but fuckin’ get back there. We need you.”

Steve hesitates and Bucky gives him a shove. 

“Go on,” Bucky demands. “I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t you dare let anything happen to yourself,” Steve demands in kind. “I’ve lost you too many times, you hear?”

“I hear,” Bucky replies, warmed all the way through. Even the pain isn’t so bad now. “Now get.”

With one last worried look, Steve ‘got’. Returning to the fight, he throws himself into the battle with everything he has. He doesn’t throw Bucky a gun, but for once Bucky does what Steve wants and keeps himself out of it. They have come too far for one of them to be stupid. It’s not like he leaves Steve blind. With a glance his way and a nod, Anelle promises to watch Steve’s six. How can he not trust his own face?

With Cyclops' team as reinforcements, they can now easily mow through the masses of Skrull soldiers. Wade, Steve, and Kurt fight with renewed ferocity, and soon Iron Man and Pixie fly in to help. They only have to hold the line, wait for Cyclops' team to come to them, and that’s what they do. They fight, they hold, and the last Skrull falls. The last bullet is fired. 

Wanda drops her shield, Steve - the _real_ Steve Rogers - is surrounded by his soldiers. Anelle, no longer wearing Bucky’s face, retreats from the throng of superheroes, crouching down at Bucky’s side and breathing hard. They both watch as, at the center of the group, Tony pushes to stand before Steve. Silence descends, Scott whispering to a few to take point and another half-dozen to see to the liberated prisoners. 

Even Steve can tell something significant is happening.

“Tony?” he queries. 

Stepping close, Tony squeezes Steve’s shoulders, suited hands patting down his biceps until he’s holding Steve’s forearms. Though he looks confused, Steve doesn’t pull away. It twists something in Bucky to watch, to just _let_ this happen. He reminds himself that Steve was the one who kissed Bucky, who was _happy_ he’d remembered them. 

“You’re hurt,” Tony says.

“It’s not so bad,” Steve shrugs, “I can wait, and we’re not safe yet. Probably shouldn’t be celebrating…” He trails off, staring down at Tony as the man’s expression cracks. “Whoa, hey, okay, I’m clearly missing something here. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Tony says, forcing cheer to his voice, “Just...had to see for myself. Suppose someone will tell you, Barnes most likely, but we - and by we, I mean the Skrull posing as you and me - were married.” 

Steve’s eyes go wide.

“Tony, I -”

“Don’t say anything, Rogers. It wasn’t you. Like I said, just needed to see for myself. ‘Scuse me.”

The crowd parts for Tony, who isn’t heading up the ramp. He’s heading back. Towards Bucky. No, towards _Anelle_. Though it nearly makes him pass out, Bucky makes himself stand and plants his feet. If Tony wants Anelle, he’s going through Bucky first.

“Back off, Stark,” Bucky says threateningly once the man’s close enough to hear. 

From behind Tony, Steve hurries forward and grabs his shoulder. 

“He saved my life,” Steve says, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Probably saved Bucky’s, too, and turned on his own family doing it.”

Bucky holds up his hand, palm outward. Though Tony has stopped moving, his face holds nothing but betrayal. Sweating from how much his body is protesting his actions, Bucky feels his heart race. The last time he’d seen that look, he’d lost his first metal arm. 

“Stark, I get that you’re hurting,” Bucky says, “but hurting him will not make it better.”

“Get out of my way, Barnes,” Tony says darkly.

“No,” Bucky starts, but a hand squeezes his shoulder. Turning, Bucky sees Anelle at his side, expression blank.

“Thank you, Sergeant, but I think it’s best you let Tony by.”

“Anelle,” Bucky protests, angling his body between him and Tony.

The Skrull smiles with his borrowed face.

“I appreciate the trust you’ve offered me.”

“After what you’ve done,” Bucky hisses, “you deserve...better than to be killed. As far as I’m concerned, you’re one of us.”

“That means more to me than you can imagine,” Anelle says, “but this is between Tony and me. Let him by.”

“Buck,” Steve says.

Blowing out a hard breath through his nose, Bucky takes a step backward. Steve moves around Tony, sliding an arm around Bucky’s waist and helping him stand. Bucky easily leans against him, biting his lip and praying he’s not about to watch Anelle die.

Stark steps right into Anelle’s face. To his credit, the Skrull doesn’t back away.

“Tell me again, how it wasn’t all a lie,” Tony demands, voice low.

Anelle leans right back into Tony’s space, dark eyes intense.

“I love you. You may never forgive me, I’ve known that for a long time, but it doesn’t change that I love you.”

“You expect me to take your word on that?”

“No,” Anelle immediately answers. “Make me prove it.”

“I don’t know you.”

“You do,” Anelle insists. “You don’t know details, but you know _me_ , and I know you.”

Tony glares, but doesn’t lash out. All he does is turn around, still glaring, and launch himself off the ledge and soar upwards. They watch him go and Steve turns away first, guiding Bucky. There’s a long hike ahead of them to get out of The Hive.

“That was awkward,” Bucky mutters.

“Tell me about it,” Steve answers. “Wanda? Can you get the prisoner?”

“My pleasure, Captain,” Wanda answers. “It’s good to have you back.”

Steve grins.

“Good to be back.”


	6. The End

The trip back to the surface is nowhere near as eventful as the trip into The Hive. There are more Skrull waiting, but most seem to be trying to escape. With Steve back in charge, the remaining aliens are captured, bound (thanks to Parker), and corralled as a group to the surface just in time for the Army to roll in. 

With their mission a success, the Resistance doesn’t fight them off, they let the politicians do their jobs. It’s fairly difficult to explain at first, but with more of Anelle’s help, and his unconscious mother as proof that Skrull aren’t conspiracy theories, they quickly make headway. Instead of being treated as criminals attacking a government installation, the Resistance are given treatment for their injuries, food, and a place to rest.

Well, for everyone but Steve. There’s a never-ending queue of people walking through the medical tent where Steve sits at Bucky’s side, watching the doctors try to get a handle on his wound. To his surprise, no one even glances his way with a mention of his past. Anelle stays nearby, hovering near Bucky after some of the Army’s top dogs had wanted to take him in for ‘study’. Bucky hadn’t been the only hero to put up a stink about that. Tony had shouted the loudest and threatened lawsuits, to Anelle’s not-so-subtle pleasure. That was all Tony wanted to do with him, however, so Anelle stays near Bucky. Bucky doesn’t mind; the guy deserves a break and a friend.

It’s hours before they’re allowed to leave for home, though not everyone gets the chance. Logan, Scott, and McCoy are requested immediately before a Senate hearing for testimony. Bucky owes them for that because it was either them, or Steve, and Bucky wants his fella with him for as long as possible. 

“Where’s Natasha?” Bucky asks as some princess takes her leave.

Steve frowns and Anelle quickly speaks up.

“Captain Rogers has been in cryo stasis for four years. Ms. Romanov went into hiding, considering herself to be a threat to the Resistance since she was human.”

“Four years?” Steve repeats, looking stricken.

Bucky grabs his hand and squeezes.

“Better than fifteen.” For a distraction, he looks to Anelle and asks, “What about Sam?”

“Sam Wilson remained behind to take up the mantle of Captain America.”

“What?” Steve blurts. “But...I’m…”

Bucky winces, bringing Steve’s hand to his lips and kissing the knuckles. Being Captain America wasn’t Steve’s entire identity, but it gave his life meaning. Purpose. Without it, he thinks Steve will end up adrift for a while. Not that he can’t figure his shit out, but Bucky can’t stand to see Steve upset for any length of time.

Anelle responds to Steve’s doubts. “I, um, well, Tony and I thought it was best that there be a Captain America still fighting when we couldn’t. It wasn’t like the bad guys went to sleep because the Skrull were waging a secret war. There had to be someone to stand up to them, someone that was a symbol as much as anything else. It’s why we, my people, never targeted him. The goal was to take the world, not take the remains.”

“You and Tony, huh,” Steve says darkly. “What else did you two do?”

Anelle rubs the back of his head, looking sheepish.

“New costume and a new code name. Nomad. The idea, well… Captain America was a symbol of _America_. Nomad has no country, no home. He stands for justice for all people, regardless of nationality, heritage, or birth.”

“Oh,” Steve blinks, looking floored, “I, well, that’s…”

“Very you,” Bucky pipes up, “and the costume, darlin’, just wait until you see the suit.”

Steve’s shoulders slump dramatically.

“Not again.”

“Oh yeah,” Bucky laughs, “Tights suit you.”

“Um,” Anelle interrupts, “Sergeant, Captain Rogers has news for you as well.”

“I do?” Steve blinks, looking at Anelle with some confusion.

Raising an eyebrow, Anelle prompts, “The trial?”

“Oh!” Steve’s entire face lights up and he squeezes Bucky’s hand hard. “While you were sleeping, there was a trial for the Winter Soldier in absentia. You were cleared, Buck. All charges.”

Bucky isn’t quite sure he heard Steve right.

“Wh-what?” 

“Yeah, you were found not guilty on account of the brainwashing and that POW stuff, whatever...” Steve scowls, turning toward Tony who’s striding back through the tent towards them. “It was huge thing. All over the news for months. Your boy fought damn hard for you, brought out all the big guns. Did _interviews_.”

Frowning, Bucky glances at Steve with no little confusion. The news is overwhelming, so much so he literally cannot think about it right now. It’s too much along with everything else, so he pushes it aside and snatches at the first distraction.

“You have issues with interviews?”

“Uh,” Anelle raises his hand to the level of his chest, “That would be me. Reporters are terrifying.”

“Speaking of aliens who I can’t tell from Steve Rogers,” Tony segues, “You’re with me, body-snatcher.”

“I’m not a body-snatcher,” Anelle protests. “And why?”

“Might as well be, and because you’re being released into my custody. Mix of prisoner of war, informant, and American citizen making bail.”

“American citizen?” Steve repeats. Bucky’s just as curious how Stark managed that.

The smug look on Tony’s face says he’s feeling a lot better all on its own.

“Well, he married me, so that makes the guy an American citizen, doesn’t it?” 

“Does it?” Steve repeats.

Bucky smacks him on the shoulder.

“What are you, a fucking parrot?” 

Tony snorts, gaze sobering as it lands on Anelle.

“Are you even a guy?” he demands. It’s certainly not on-topic, but Bucky thinks this is Tony’s way of making Anelle prove himself.

“We don’t have gender the way you do,” Anelle answers. “Skrull are neither male, or female, and both at the same time. I have grown accustomed to being a human male and, well, you know me best this way.”

“Hey,” Tony says, holding up his hands as if he was innocent of something, “Don’t mind me. I bat for both teams. You wanna be a woman, I won’t stop you.”

Anelle lets out a little breath of annoyance.

“It’s not that simple, Tony. I’m not _male_ and I’m not female, either. I’m…both, changing between them is the same for me as… when you choose which suit you’re going to wear because I _am both_ , but it doesn’t define me like how your suit does not define you.”

Tony’s silent, eyes Anelle.

“Then we should find you a form that suits you better. Something androgynous. Not green,” he adds quickly, “Not...quite ready for that, but something that lets you be whoever you decide to be.”

The smile that spreads over Anelle’s lips is the first genuine one Bucky’s seen the guy wear.

“Is there something wrong with this body?”

Dark eyes flick down Anelle and Bucky feels like he’s just walked in on them in the bedroom. Clearing his throat, he earns an irritated look from Tony, and a blush from Anelle. That’s fine, so long as they don’t eye-hump each other right there in the tent. 

“No,” Tony answers.

“Then I’ll keep this one. I think I like it.”

Tony sniffs and half-turns towards the exit.

“If you like it. You coming or what? Pretty sure this is a one time offer.”

“Of course,” Anelle quickly agrees, stepping around Bucky’s bed.

“This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook,” Tony says quickly, eyes narrowing. “We have issues, with a capital I. To say you’re in the dog house doesn’t begin to cut it.”

“If the couch is too close, I can occupy my old floor,” Anelle suggests, falling into step with Tony as they head for the tent flap. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Tony waves a hand dismissively, “That floor’s under renovations. The couch is fine.”

Bucky chuckles.

“Think they’ll be all right?” Steve asks.

“Who even knows,” Bucky says honestly, “They’ve got a lot of shit to work out, and it might be too much to overcome. I mean, Tony can hold a grudge like no other. But no one I know adapts faster.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Steve agrees, “but Tony deserves to be happy.”

“You know who else deserves to be happy?” Bucky asks suggestively.

When Steve looks over, Bucky wiggles his eyebrows. The flush that spreads over Steve’s face is gorgeous, starting at his cheeks, then descending down his neck. Bucky’s lips curl into a smirk, and even Steve’s ears turn red. God, but it feels good to see he can still make Steve come undone with a look.

“You’re fucking kidding,” Steve protests, “Buck, you’re really hurt.”

“By the time we get home, I’ll be mostly fine,” Bucky states dismissively. Grabbing Steve by the waistband, he yanks him close and leans forward. “Steven Grant Rogers, you take me home right now. It has been too fucking long since we’ve been alone together. No more waiting; nothing else is more important. It’s ridiculous that I miss you and you’re right the fuck there.”

Steve’s tongue flicks out over his lips and Bucky finds himself captivated. They’ve only shared the one kiss and it’s been nowhere near enough. With the way Steve’s blue eyes have darkened when he looks back into them, his best guy feels exactly the same.

“I’ll go find your doctor,” Steve says thickly.

Bucky lets his smirk turn wicked with promise.

“You do that.”

\----

When Steve sets his mind to something, no force in the world can stop him. It takes him another hour, but after promising to debrief again the next day, plus send all their files on the Skrull, he secures their release and transportation back to the Resistance’s hideout in the States. They can’t take the quinjet, so they borrow a jeep and drive. Bucky isn’t complaining. 

The hours they spend together on the road are exactly what he and Steve need. They’re alone, no one to steal either of their attention, and nothing to entertain them but each other. Steve catches him up on the decade his missed. Someone else will have to catch them up on the last four years, but there’s plenty to absorb in the meantime. Almost too much, really. The only sane, grounding thing is Steve’s hand in his, heavy and warm.

When they finally fall silent, just the road before and after them, Steve asks, “Do you ever think we’d be here?”

“Nevada?” Bucky teases; he knows what Steve means.

“No, jerk,” Steve smacks his shoulder, “Us. Here, together in the future, holding hands after saving the world.”

“Never thought I’d be one to save the world, Stevie,” Bucky answers honestly, “Then I never thought I’d get a happy ending, so...no. Never thought we’d be here.”

“I did,” Steve says quietly, “Before the train. Okay, not the saving the world bit, but us holding hands, together against the world. Like it always was. That’s all the happy ending I ever needed.”

“Well,” Bucky drawls, “I’m still not sure I get a happy ending, but I’ll take yours any day.”

\----

As Bucky predicted, his injury is healed by the time they get back to the Resistance compound. It’s still sore, but nothing to write home about. Steve’s are as well, though they weren’t ever as bad as Bucky’s. Nevertheless, Steve insists on helping him out of the car, holding an arm around Bucky’s back as they walk through the parking structure like he might fall at any minute.

“You better not be thinking I’m still not well enough to fuck you silly,” Bucky murmurs as they stand before the elevator and pressing his lips beneath Steve’s ear. The man’s whole body shivers and Bucky smirks. “I remember every way to drive you wild, sweetheart.” Bucky pushes his fingers beneath the hem of the borrowed Army shirt Steve’s wearing, ghosting his fingers along Steve’s side. “It’s been so long and longer for you; don’t you try to put me off.”

A flush is spreading down Steve’s neck, and he resolutely will not look at Bucky.

“You’re hurt, Buck,” he says firmly, “Sex can wait a day.”

“I have waited enough goddamn days to get you in bed again,” Bucky argues before breaking out the bigger guns. “You know what it was like, remembering you how I did? Remembering you in bed all spread out on my sheets, naked and gorgeous, and all mine? All those noises, sugar; god, you always made the best noises.” 

The elevator dings and Bucky pushes his fingers down into Steve’s waistband, fingers dipping into the hollow of his hip. Steve’s breath hitches and he hauls Bucky in the elevator. Bucky doesn’t help, makes him manhandle him while keeping his hand in place and his lips against Steve’s skin.

“How long has it been, Stevie? How long since someone made you feel good? I wanna take my time with you, map every inch of you I remember. Play with those incredible tits. They still as sensitive as they were? You remember when I made you come just playin’ with ‘em? In that little hotel in London?”

Steve groans.

“Bucky, please.”

Fire races through Bucky at those two words because it meant he was so close to winning. Plastering himself hard to Steve’s side, he slides his metal hand over Steve’s stomach, then up under his shirt. He doesn't do more than caress, knowing Steve will put a stop to this the second Bucky tries anything more. No, if Bucky wants to push Steve to give what Bucky is more than capable of handling, he has to do it without that easy out.

“No, Stevie,” Bucky purs, “Miss you something _fierce_ , you know that?”

“Always about sex with you,” Steve groans.

“Like you don’t love it,” Bucky huffs, “You love my mouth and my dick, but I know you love my fingers most. Come on, sugar, you know you miss my hands. I’ll do it just right, stretch you slow, make it so good. Find that spot,” Steve shut his eyes tight and Bucky grins, “Yeah, _that_ spot, Stevie, play you from the inside while I open you up, slow and easy and let you feel every second I make you ready for me. Make you come just on my fingers. Make you come undone before I make you mine again.”

Steve cracks. Turning, he grabs Bucky’s shoulders and slams him up against the elevator wall. In the next moment, his mouth is on Bucky’s, kissing him senseless and making him moan. Steve hasn’t had Wanda to refresh his memories, but he remembers exactly how to shut Bucky up proper. Their tongues slide together, both moaning now, and Bucky forgets how to speak, let alone what he was going to say next.

The elevator dings again, opening on their floor, but neither stops kissing until -

“The writer is _so_ into this right now,” Wade says.

Bucky ignores him, intent on kissing Steve until he can’t breathe. Considering their supersoldier lung capacity, that could take a good long while. Like Steve, Bucky loves a challenge.

“Seriously,” Wade goes on, Bucky cracks an eye, but the crazy isn’t directed at them, “Can’t I get just a little action? Deadpool, Cap, Winter Soldier threesome! No? Man, you’d get so many readers and kudos!” 

There’s a loud, exaggerated sigh.

“Man, you’ve been no fun this entire story. You didn’t even write my girlfriend into this ‘cause you like her better as Inara. You listen to your beta and put her into the next story. That's the least I deserve for pushing your plot along.”

Taking Steve’s hand, Bucky pulls him through the doors and away from Wade’s babbling, but doesn’t break the kiss. Nothing is going to keep him from his Steve, not Wade, not whoever he’s talking to, not even the man himself. It’s been over a decade for Steve, even longer for Bucky. They’re going to make love all night, if not longer.

“Stop petting that fucking cat and get me some sex!” Wade shouts as they stumble down the hall.

“What the fuck is he talking about?” Bucky finally has to ask.

“Don’t ask,” Steve mumbles against his lips, “He’s crazy. Brain cancer or something.”

“How’d he even get here before us?”

“He probably bailed when the Army showed up. Deadpool is probably wanted in at least one country, even before this Skrull thing.”

Bucky mumbles something as a response, not caring any more, kisses Steve again. Loses himself in his lover’s mouth as Steve leads the way to his room. Steve is fumbling with his key, their lips locked, tongues twisting and twining, when Wade comes barrelling past. 

“Don’t need you two!” he shouts as he runs. “Apparently Parker likes me! Parkerrrrrrr!”

Laughing, Bucky shoves Steve against the door. 

“I kind of like him.”

“We’re not having a threesome with Wade,” Steve protests.

“Not like that,” Bucky assures. “I meant, he’s my brand of crazy.”

“Good, then you can deal with him from now on.”

Laughing, Bucky opens the door and drags Steve inside. He doesn’t bother looking about the room, turns, kicks the door shut, and pulls Steve back into his arms. Steve is gentler now, pulling at his borrowed tactical gear, but Bucky doesn’t have to be. He rips the green Army shirt over Steve’s head and yanks at the buckle on his pants. Against his lips, Steve starts laughing, but even now they don’t stop kissing. They don’t have to for Bucky to know Steve thinks Bucky’s impatience is amusing because they still know each other. After years, and ice, and Hydra, and death, they still know each other.

When something tears, Bucky lets out a growl of frustration and kicks Steve’s legs out from beneath him while turning, shoving the blond hunk of muscle onto the bed whether he likes it or not. Though he’s hard as a rock in his stolen pants, Steve can’t help but continue to laugh until Bucky grabs the cuffs and yanks hard. Then his eyes are as large as saucers, nearly all black, and his chest heaves with his ragged breathing.

“Buck…”

“Where’s the lube, Stevie,” Bucky demands as his eyes drink in every inch of Steven Grant Rogers laid out naked before him.

“Bedside table,” Steve answers, breathless, and that flush is all the way down his chest now. God bless Steve’s Irish mother. He _loves_ that blush.

Fishing the lube out of the drawer takes no time at all, and Bucky strips out of the last of the tac gear himself before crawling onto the bed. Steve’s throat bobs as he swallows, slowly lying flat as Bucky slings his leg over Steve’s knee so he’s straddling his hip. The lube stays in his flesh hand as Bucky pushes Steve’s other leg wide, spreading his fella out even more and earning a moan for the effort.

“Missed you, Buck,” Steve says thickly and Bucky kisses him hard. The last thing he wants right now is to hear how much Steve missed him. To be reminded that he _abandoned_ Steve after the man gave up his entire life for Bucky. He _does not_ want to hear it, so he shuts Steve up properly.   
When his flesh hand leaves the lube on the bedspread and slides up over Steve’s hip, along his ribs to tug at one peaked nipple, Steve breaks the kiss.

“No, no, Buck, please.”

“No?” Bucky repeats, raising an eyebrow and tugging at the nub again. Steve’s eyes slam shut and he arches, letting out a soft whine. “Why no?”

“Been too long,” Steve answers, looking up pleadingly, “Don’t tease. Do slow next time, now I need… I need…”

Bucky tugs again, pinching and rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Steve nearly comes off the bed and he gasps, moans, and slumps back down. Just as sensitive as ever, just as gorgeous, and is it any wonder Bucky took the time to make Steve come just from that?

“What do you need, sugar?” Bucky prompts.

Steve curses at him and Bucky smirks, dipping his head to slowly swipe his tongue over Steve’s nipple. 

Before he can do any more teasing, Steve blurts, “I need your fingers in me. Need you to fuck me. Please, Buck, please.”

“Slow?” Bucky prompts, moving his lips over Steve’s sensitive, pink nipple, “Easy? Fast and hard?”

Steve whines, gasping like a fish and clutching at the comforter. After just that little tease, Steve is already coming undone. Too far gone to give a real answer as now Steve will want both, neither, and everything. He’ll turn himself inside out trying to figure it out and Bucky doesn’t want that. He wants Steve to writhe and moan and come apart, not think himself into a box.

Popping the cap on the lube, Bucky smears some on his index finger without moving his lips from brushing against Steve’s sensitive nipple.

“Gonna go slow first,” Bucky tells Steve, pressing the tip of his finger against Steve’s hole, “Slow and easy, making you feel everything while I stretch you open.” Carefully he eases the first knuckle inside and Steve arches again, gasping, hands coming up from the bed to clutch at Bucky’s shoulders. “Feel that? Yeah, you do. So tight, Stevie. God, you’re always so fuckin’ tight. Clutching at me, trying to pull me in. You want more, don’t you? Want more already?”

Bucky eases his finger carefully into Steve, twisting as he goes, making Steve feel every push and scrape as his body opens. A soft cry leaves Steve as Bucky’s knuckles press against his rim, back arching. Bucky sits back, making Steve’s hands fall back to his sides before reaching up to tug at his hair. From his ankles, Bucky can see every inch of Steve’s gorgeous body, straining and splayed out. His, all his; every curved muscle and flat plane, every inch of pale skin and long limbs. Steve has always been gorgeous, but with his serum enhanced muscles straining against his skin, he’s the sexiest man in all the world.

“Bucky,” Steve pleads, wanting more too soon.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” Bucky croones, slowly pulling his finger free with the same twisting, turning motion that drives Steve wild, “Soon. Soon it’ll be two and I’ll show you how well I remember you. God, you’re so beautiful, you know that? Spread your legs for me, Stevie.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Bucky purrs as Steve plants his feet on the mattress and spreads his thighs as wide as they’ll go. As a reward, he quickly pushes his finger back into Steve, curling it up at the end so it hits that spot, and Steve gasps as his hands flail for a handhold. They settle on the headboard, making it groan from stress. Against his stomach, Steve’s cock twitches and jerks, precome oozing from the tip. It smears attractively against his skin.

Adding lube to his fingers, Bucky pushes in the second, even though it’s a little too soon. Steve just cries out, arching again and pushing back on the digits because he’s never minded a little bit of pain. On the contrary, it makes him babble, saying Bucky’s name over and over like a litany of sin. With every sound, Bucky thrusts his fingers into Steve, rubbing them over that spot on the way in and dragging them over it again on the way out. Somehow Steve’s torso arches even further, every perfect muscle straining, standing out in stark relief for Bucky to admire.

A third finger and Steve shouts, one hand dropping from the headboard to grab Bucky’s wrist. Not to stop him, no Steve wraps his fingers around it in a bruising grip and just holds on. Bucky’s thrusting his fingers into Steve as fast as he can now, unerringly hitting his prostate every time. Every breath dragged into Steve’s lungs makes his impressive pecs heave and Bucky’s more than a little disappointed he didn’t get to play with them. 

Definitely next time.

Every new thrust of Bucky’s fingers is slowly taking Steve apart. It’s exactly like Bucky remembers, and new and wonderful at the same time. Bucky drinks it in, memorizing every arch and cry and moan and lip-biting second. Steve’s cock is red and flushed, twitching with Steve’s heartbeat. Copious amounts of precome have smeared over Steve’s stomach and he’s dripping now with each new thrust. After saying Bucky’s name nearly a hundred times, Steve’s voice is raspy and deep, punctuated with those sweet delicious cries that Steve makes only as he gets closer to orgasm brought about solely from Bucky’s fingers inside his tight passage.

“Jesus, sugar,” Bucky says in awe, “You’re so close, aren’t you? I haven’t even touched your cock. It’s okay,” he says quickly as Steve whines, “It’s okay, I got you. I’m here, sweetheart; you can let go.”

“Buck,” Steve gasps, hiccups, sobs. “Bucky, Buck, please.”

Bucky knows exactly what Steve wants and doesn’t hesitate a second to give it to him. Still thrusting his fingers into Steve in quick, perfectly aimed jabs, he knocks Steve’s leg aside as he leans over him. In between one, “Bucky,” and the next, Bucky kisses Steve hard. The other hand detaches from the headboard, wrapping around Bucky’s neck and holding him close with all the man’s super strength. Bucky doesn’t protest, he thrusts his tongue past Steve’s lips and feels the ripples that run through his chest, down through his stomach, as he cries out again and comes on Bucky’s fingers.

Kissing Steve through the wave of pleasure, Bucky carefully slows his thrusting fingers, but doesn’t pull them out. He waits, letting Steve ride it out, letting him come back down. The hand on the back of his head falls away, allowing Bucky to gentle their kiss to quick soft presses of lips, the scrape of Bucky’s teeth over Steve’s lower lip, and nothing more. 

Steve eventually moans softly, eyes half-closed, body limp, as he slowly eases his legs straight again.

“Gonna fuck you now, Stevie,” Bucky murmurs against his lips. “You ready for me?”

“Yeah, god, yeah, Buck,” Steve sighs. “Need you. Fuck me again, come inside me. Make me come again.”

Bucky grins.

“Whatever you want.”

Shifting between Steve’s legs, Bucky pulls his knees over Steve’s hips and presses the tip of his cock to Steve’s stretched hole. With a moan, Steve arches his back again, and Bucky pushes in, sinking into Steve in one slow thrust. Immediately Steve’s arch reverses, his body curling towards Bucky as he tries to take in more, tries to take everything Bucky has to give. 

“Buck, god, Buck...” Steve gasps. 

Smirking, Bucky leans against the headboard above Steve’s and rolls his hips. Steve groans, eyes falling closed, and Bucky wraps a hand around his cock. Thanks to the serum, Steve’s already hard again and jerks, cursing at the contact. Between Steve’s come and the fact that he’s leaking again, Bucky doesn’t need to add any lube as he strokes up to the tip, twists his palm around it, and slowly pulls out.

“Oh god,” Steve says again. 

Bucky almost sasses him, but Steve’s muscles clamp down and he can’t do anything but thrust back into the tight waiting heat. Moaning, Steve clamps down again and Bucky curses. But he does eventually find a rhythm. In moments, between Bucky’s thrusting and stroking, Steve is coming apart again, though Bucky isn’t faring much better. Fucking Steve is better than any memory, better than any fantasy. He’s hot and tight and holds Bucky’s shoulders, scratching down his back as he moans and whispers, “Bucky,” and, “so good” and, “more” over and over and over. 

Gritting his teeth, Bucky gives Steve what he wants. He thrusts harder, deeper, causing Steve’s cries to rise in pitch. They’re spiralling, falling, soaring, and Bucky doesn’t look away from Steve’s face for a second. Head tipped back, sweat beading on his brow, and in the hollow of his throat, Steve’s sky-blue eyes watch him as intently; pink lips stay parted, breath panting harsh and fast and in time with Bucky’s thrusts. Every inch of Steve’s skin is flushed, red and pink and perfect and Bucky’s heart lurches, beats too hard, slams into his ribs.

“...I love you,” Bucky gasps.

Steve’s face breaks into a stunning smile, bright and extraordinary and so, so happy. 

“I love you, too.”

Without any more warning, Bucky’s orgasm crashes through him. His ears ring, hand tightening on Steve’s cock as he somehow makes his wrist keep moving as the white hot, overwhelming pleasure washes over him. Once, twice, three times he thrusts into Steve, watches his Stevie arch again in ecstasy and feels the hot rush of come fill his hand. Not together, not quite, but damn close. 

Bucky collapses, smearing come between them, and hears Steve grunt. Carefully he eases himself to his side, breathing hard, and enjoying the burn of Steve’s scratches over his shoulders for as long as they last. Strong arms wrap around his shoulders and Steve turns, sliding down, and buries his face in Bucky’s throat.

“Missed you, missed you so much,” Steve babbles. “Please don’t leave me again.”

Wincing, trying to sort his head, Bucky manages to get his arms around Steve and squeeze.

“Can’t promise you that. You know I can’t promise that.”

Steve’s shoulders tense and he nods morosely.

“I know, Buck,” he murmurs, “Just…”

“You missed me,” Bucky supplies. “I’m so sorry, Steve. I’m so, so sorry I left you alone for so long.”

“Promise me you won’t go if you can help it?” Steve whispers. 

“Punk,” Bucky huffs, “I’m here for the duration. You got me again, Stevie. You got me.”

The tension drains from Steve like water through a sieve.

“Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Bucky says, pressing a kiss to Steve’s hair, “and, you know, I missed you, too. Even when I didn’t remember you or us, I still missed you.”

Bucky can feel Steve’s smile against his skin. It’s not Bucky’s happy ending, but that’s all right. This is better.

**Author's Note:**

> [Follow me on Tumblr ](http://cleo4u.tumblr.com/)


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